


Smell Like I Sound

by 0KKULTiC



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Bodily Fluids, Corpses, Cryptozoology, Dry Humor, Friends to Lovers, Furry, Human/Monster Romance, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, Mildly Dubious Consent, Monsters, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Poly endgame, Polyamorous Pack, Polyamory, Sarcasm, Slice of Life, Sweat, Urination, Voyeurism, Werewolves, Yeosang gets railed, corpse mention, death mention, you know i gotta do it to em (put in my shitty sense of grim humor)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-23 10:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0KKULTiC/pseuds/0KKULTiC
Summary: Yeosang and Wooyoung are your average cryptozoologists. They live on cup ramen and temp jobs all in the pursuit of their true passion: the paranormal. A promising lead brings them to the rural midwest on the trail of a possible werewolf. Desperate to track down the elusive creature, Yeosang comes up with a plan.It's an awful plan, really. Perhaps the worst plan in the history of plans, but when Yeosang's got his mind on something, he'll be damned if he doesn't do it. He's set on his path, determined and ready to go through with it. His adamance doesn't waver - at least, not until he's face to face with the creature, prone on a makeshift nest in a position he hopes comes across as "submissive" in wolf language.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> // CHAPTER 1 WARNING(S): please heed the tags above! NSFW/Sexually explicit content ahead. most of the stuff tagged is just touched on/mentioned/implied but it's tagged regardless just in case. if you have a strong aversion to any of these things do not read. tags will be added as this progresses.
> 
> alternative title:
> 
> Yeosang Gets Railed By A Werewolf  
> [IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY THEME PLAYS]

“I can’t believe we’re fucking doing this,” Wooyoung mutters disdainfully as he slings a pack over his shoulder.

Yeosang lets out a dry chuckle, his breath fogging in front of him. In spite of the looming threat of global warming, winter’s bite seems to creep up all the same. Summer’s last vestiges faded weeks ago in their forsaken corner of the midwest. The unfortunate and inevitable chill is perpetually regarded as premature. All too soon, summer’s vividity is gone and with it goes everybody’s will to exist beyond the four walls of their house. Well, almost everybody’s. 

The sky fades from azure to black quickly. There isn’t a cloud in sight which makes for ideal conditions. Even though the lack of insulation makes it cold, the clear, unmitigated moonlight will assure their mark is sure to stir. Most trees have finished their annual leaf purge at this point - a disadvantageous circumstance for Yeosang and Wooyoung.

“This is gonna be insane,” Yeosang responds quietly.

“You’re fucking insane,” Wooyoung says. Normally, he’d be saying something like that with a smile. It’s apparent he’s trying to keep it lighthearted. Of course, having known the guy for six years, Yeosang can all too easily discern the strain in the other’s tone.

Wooyoung had been against the idea from the moment he heard about it.

“Trust me, once we have genuine proof of werewolf activity, it’ll all be worth it.”

“Activity, huh? Seriously, I-” Wooyoung lets out an exasperated sigh. He’s tried talking Yeosang out of it dozens of times. Though he’s normally pretty adamant, at this point, he’s given up. “Just- Equipment check.”

“I just-”

“Please?”

“Right. Fine.” Yeosang obliges the other and starts patting down his parka. It’s outfitted with dozens of pockets inside and out, some with zippers, some with snaps and buttons. It’s got a removable hood, too. He opted to keep that in the car, switching it out for a beanie. It wouldn’t do to get snagged by it. Yeo runs down his list again, making sure to touch everything as he speaks.

“Um, okay, phone. Walkie-”

“You’ve got your earpiece in already?”

“Yeah, I’ve got my earpiece in.”

“The mic clipped?”

“On the collar of my shirt- the one I’m wearing under.”

“Right. Okay- Sorry. Walkie…”

“Walkie- check. Got my little nest pack. Pepper spray. Shocky - aka stun gun. Flare. Lighter. Little spray paint.Uh- Um, I’ve got the pheremone. Silver knife. Compass. Flashlight. Ziplocs. Tweezers. Um- Got my little bottles in here. Um-” Yeosang pats his shoulder, “-cam.”

“You’ve got your first aid kit?”

“Yeah it’s- here. Inner breast pocket. Phone location’s on.”

“Okay…” Wooyoung heaves a sigh. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure, like I was sure ten minutes ago, an hour ago, and every other time you’ve asked that. Are you sure you wanna do this? Because if you don’t-”

“Like hell am I backing out.” Wooyoung slings a hand around the other’s shoulder. “You already said about twenty times that you’d do this without me, anyway.”

The two start ambling towards the woods, leaving the worn nineties range rover they’d pitched in for behind. It may very well be the only thing left of them if Yeosang’s plan goes south. 

* * *

**Five weeks earlier.**

“It’s a mating call,” Yeosang said.

“What?” Wooyoung lifted his gaze from his laptop to regard Yeosang.

“The howling. Aggressive territorial markings. What if it’s a mating call? Establishing dominance and then… And then trying to attract a mate?”

  
“I’m sorry- What?”

The other’s confusion didn’t surprise Yeosang very much. They’d been at it since Wooyoung got home from work at eleven. They always kept the blinds drawn, but Yeosang is pretty sure he can see daylight sneak through the cracks in the plastic. Empty ramen cups and protein bar wrappers litter the table, integrated almost seamlessly with the mess of their annotated maps and handwritten notes.

So goes the life of a cryptozoologist, they figured.

The two had known each other for six years, been in “business” together for about two. If one could call chasing around supposed specters, poltergeists, and cryptids business. Yeosang can only imagine the disappointment his parents felt when his gap year added an “s” to the end. Wooyoung didn’t have to imagine since his mom called at least once a week to unsubtly nudge him toward university or, at the very least, steady employment.

It’s a calling, though. One that, somehow, the two ended up sharing passion for. They made ends meet with part-time jobs, temp work, supernatural consultancy and more recently remote work. The pair followed their leads, setting down roots anywhere with cheap, short-term leases and good wifi. That’s how they ended up in the middle of rural Pennsylvania, huddled around a wobbly IKEA table in a one-bedroom AirBNB.

A string of disappearances is, unfortunately, not enough to warrant much interest from people in their vocation. People disappear everywhere. It’s a tragedy, yes, but not necessarily indicative of supernatural activity. It’s the state in which those missing are found - that is the tip off. A few mangled corpses, some anecdotes and grainy pictures, these are the things that constitute a lead. Though to most people, they meant nothing, to Yeosang and Wooyoung, they served as the foundation of a paranormal investigation.

“Think about it. Wolves don’t howl for fun. It’s a mode of communication,” Yeosang elaborated.

“Yeah. Duh. But who is our werewolf calling out to? The area’s way too quiet for there to be a pack.”

“Exactly. I don’t think there is a pack.”

“Okay, so…? They like the sound of their own voice?”

Yeosang rolled his eyes, “No, idiot. They’re trying to find a pack.”

“Yeah, but, but-” Wooyoung rifled through the pile of papers next to his laptop for a second. He pulled one out and skimmed it, nodding before continuing, “-it could just be a territorial thing, too. You know - ‘stay the hell away from me’?”

“It could be… Or it could not. The territory - if it’s similar to the one we’ve drawn up - is pretty fucking big and pretty fucking barren. It’s far from camp grounds and dangerous. There’s no way any comparable threat is encroaching on that. If there was another one, we’d be able to tell. The numbers just don’t add up.”

“Okay fine. I mean- It’s not unreasonable, really. So our wolfie wants a companion? Wait- You said mating, though. By mating do you mean…?”

“How else can a lone wolf start a pack?”

Wooyoung snorted, “Horny.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

Yeosang’s cheeks burned, “I think you did.” He threw a pen at the other’s head. It missed, surprising neither of them, but it was about sending a message, anyway.

“Just saying maybe our werewolf isn’t the only lonely beast stalking the night.” Wooyoung giggled.

“Shut the fuck up,” Yeosang laughed. Even after years of being on the road, the other still managed to catch him off guard. One would think that, after all that time travelling with his best friend, things would get easier. 

But they never did.

“I think you’re onto something, though,” The other responded. “But what do we do with that information?”

“I…” The gears in Yeosang’s head started turning, and from his contemplation arose a plot. It was, objectively, awful. Perhaps the most half-assed, ill-advised plot in the history of plots. However, in the wee hours of the morning fueled by the fumes of diner food he’d had the day before, he thought nothing of consequences or even worst-case scenarios. No. He only thought of data. Valuable data that could be collected via close encounters with the lycanthropic kind. “I’ve got an idea.”

* * *

“Go over the plan again?” Wooyoung urges the other as they advance into the woods. He already knows the plan. He knows it damn well, expressed his disapproval fervently, too. But the air is quickly starting to get tense; Yeosang’s got a feeling Woo doesn’t want to listen to the crunching of leaves for their entire trek inward.

“Quarter mile in, you set up. I go a mile in. By then the moon should be just right. If our intel is right, we… We may hear howling. I find a good spot, douse myself, play the recording and wait.”

“I still don’t see why we can’t set up a decoy.”

“Decoys can’t collect DNA samples. Anyway, if we make contact…” The mere thought electrifies Yeosang. He gets a rush from imagining it. Close contact with a werewolf? A genuine monster - not just decrypting vague messages from spirit boxes or studying tracks. Real, genuine contact. It’s any cryptozoologist’s dream. At least, in some capacity. There are many supernatural creatures that one would loathe to encounter, but Yeosang is fairly confident he can make it out unscathed.

Wooyoung, typically upbeat, sounds resigned as he continues, “Whatever. Worst-case scenarios. It tries to attack, what are you going for?”

“Shocky.” Yeosang pats his right pocket.

“What if it succeeds? Claws draw blood?”

“Shocky. Get to a safe space. First aid. Slash the clothing with my knife if I have to. Prioritize preventing infection.”

“What if the stun gun falls out of your hands? What if its voltage isn’t enough?”

“Pepper spray. Left pocket. Like hell can  _ any  _ living thing get pepper-sprayed and not back off. Of course, you’ll be watching and listening to all of it, won't you?”

“Obviously. What if it goes straight for the jugular?”

Yeosang halts abruptly. That’s a grisly thought, to say the least.

“Then I’m dead. You run. Don’t come back for me. Sell my shit and maybe go to school or something.”

  
Wooyoung doesn’t answer.

  
Yeosang can still hear the other’s footsteps shuffling the leaves behind him. The other is encumbered with a big pack and can’t move as fast. He’ll be watching on a laptop with their mobile wireless setup which includes bulkier equipment than Yeosang’s.

“Christ, I was kidding Yeosang.”

He wasn’t. Not really.

“You asked. I answered. Don’t worry, I’m prepared for pretty much anything that this thing could throw at us.”

“What if it takes you back to its cave and wants you to be its mate.”

“Like I said, I prepared for various situations.”

It’s Wooyoung’s turn to stop. Yeosang smirks, knowing damn well the other’s mind is reeling.

“You don’t mean- you did not.”

“I said  _ anything _ .”

“Fucking  _ nasty _ . I- Did- Did you? Did you really?”

“I work from home, you work long hours. I get bored.”

“You’re joking. You’re- You’re fucking joking.”

Yeosang is glad he can hear some life return to the other’s voice. He withdraws the little bottle of spraypaint from his coat and starts marking their trail as Wooyoung shuffles to his side.

“Do I sound like I’m joking?”

“I can’t believe we’re about to film your werewolf sex tape.”

“We’ll see what happens, but… Well, it adds up, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I mean- We established the theory is sound. But, I just- You don’t seriously think...”

“It’s a primal need. An appetite. If it’s sated, we may even be able to make the monster docile. Perhaps the gratification of an urge could even impact the transformation.”

“I’m a beacon of sin for enabling this.”

“Calm down. It’s just one of the many possibilities here. It is one, however, that requires more thorough preparation.”

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“It’s for science.”

Wooyoung heaves a sigh of defeat. They’ve been attached at the hip pretty much since meeting, but even so, Woo still struggles to discern sarcasm upon occasion. The mental image of Yeosang strenuously prepping himself to get ready for a massive werewolf cock-

No. He refuses to let that distract him.

The worrying reality is that he may bear witness to that in a matter of hours.

“God, Yeosang,” Wooyoung mutters. “Glad one of us can joke about this.”

“I’m not joking.”

“I- F- Nevermind let’s just- we’re almost at our campsite.”

“Okay. Okay. Hey, Woo-”

“ _ What _ ?”

“Whoa- Sorry. Shit, are you alright?”

“Just fucking fine, Yeosang. Can’t wait to watch you offer yourself up to a werewolf.”

“Woo, it’ll be fine, okay. This is gonna work.”

“How are you so confident?”

“Just- Just trust me on this, okay? I have a good feeling about this. You trust me, right? I mean- do you?”

“Yes. Yes, Yeosang. Yes, I trust you. You’re a fucking genius. I don’t trust a fucking werewolf, though.”

“We worked on this together. I have you,  _ and  _ I have shocky.”

“Yeah. It’s fine.” Wooyoung concedes. He knows Yeosang is, if nothing else, adamant. When he latches onto an idea he won’t let it go. Wooyoung is certain Yeosang would do the damn thing himself if it came to it.

And that’s exactly why he’s there.

* * *

“Everything alright out there?” Wooyoung’s voice filters through Yeosang’s earpiece, voice slightly tinny and distorted. It’s old tech, their walkies, but they’re reliable, good for remote places with no cell service.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m good,” Yeosang eyes his handiwork beneath the base of an overturned oak. As planned, he set up a mile inward from Wooyoung’s position. He ought to be just breaching the werewolf’s territory.

The plan was fairly straightforward. Yeosang would present himself as an alien wolf and make a show of submission. The distinction between human intellect and wolf instincts is a mucky one at best - at least, as far as he knows. It’s not well understood given the limited data cryptozoologists have on the creatures. In spite of the presence of a human mind and form, they are (unsurprisingly) not eager to spill their secrets.

Wolves and humans do have something in common, though: they are pack animals. Both thrive in communes; and, if one is alone in a vast wooded territory with naught but some squirrels for company, they may find themself inclined to seek out companionship.

It is that primal need for community that Yeosang’s theory hinges on. Community and, well, some other more primal aspects that may or may not come into play.

It isn’t that Yeosang has a strong desire to get fucked by a werewolf, per se. It’s just that he figures it is the most likely scenario. For most animals the passing of kin is a much more powerful motivation than fellowship. 

Yeosang knows he ought to be afraid right about now. He should be shaking like a leaf or sprinting back to Wooyoung, begging the other not to tease him with “I told you so”s. But he’s not. Weirdly enough, he’s calm.

He looks over the makeshift nest he built. It’s a dry day, thankfully. That made his life easier. He laid down a tarp and gathered nearby brush until the surface was what he considers relatively insulated. Atop that he put down a cheap fleece blanket. The massive roots of the huge oak make for a decent den-like structure without restricting his movement too much. He doubts he’ll make it if he has to run, but there’s space to do so if it comes to that.

Everything is in place. The stage is set. It’s hardly candlelight and rose petals, but he hopes it’s inviting enough for the beast to feel welcome.

“Okay. I’m gonna douse myself,” Yeosang whispers. His heart pounds with anticipation.

“I’m right here. If you need to tap out at any time, please just- just do it. I promise I won’t make fun of you. We’ve still got time before peak moonlight.”

“Wouldn’t fault you if you did. But I’m not, so. Just stay where you’re at. Okay.” Yeosang heaves a sigh. He feels as if his body is buzzing beneath his skin, scarcely contained. Leaves crunch beneath his weight as he seats himself. 

The pheromones are pungent. The odor practically knocks Yeosang onto his back as he hacks and coughs. It quickly permeates his nostrils, sinking into the fibers of his coat and beanie. His eyes water and he gags around the all-consuming smell. 

“Are you okay?” Wooyoung asks worriedly.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine-” Yeosang coughs, “-just- just the smell.” He sniffles, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “Shit.”

“What did you expect wolf spunk to smell like? Flowers?”

“Fuck off,” Yeosang responds. “Don’t come at me with logic.” He leans back against the base of the tree, finding a relatively comfortable spot between some thick roots.

“Yeah, well, you did the damn thing, so, now we wait - right?”

“Yeah.”

“Is shocky accessible?”

“Ugh- Yes, mom.”

“Thatta boy.”

“Whatever. It’ll be fine. Just you wait.”

“Yeah, well-”

_ “-ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-” _

The howl echoes across the woods loudly, silencing the two immediately.

Wooyoung gasps, “Shit- That- That was-” 

“It sounded far, right? Holy fuck.” A shudder runs down Yeosang’s spine. 

This is happening.

This is really happening.

Pheremones or no, the thing will be able to smell Yeosang in his territory. It will come for him. The outcome of that is to be determined. Yeo prays that it’s good.

“Should I turn the bodycam on?” Yeosang whispers.

“Wait for it. We don’t even know if it’ll find you. The second it does, turn it on. And Yeosang, I’m serious, if it-”

“I have a hand on shocky, Woo. It’s fine, it’ll be-”

The sound of something shuffling immediately catches his attention. It could very well have been some leaves in the wind, or myriad other woodland critters. Regardless, it puts Yeosang on alert.

“What? What is it?” Wooyoung asks, voice strained.

“I- I dunno-”

“Was it the-”

“I don’t  _ know _ ,” Yeosang whispers. “Hush and let me listen, okay? And before you say anything, yes, I’ll tell you if anything happens. If it’s fucked I’ll use the stun gun and run. So- So just be quiet, okay? D-don’t answer that.”

The staticky crackle in Yeosang’s earpiece fizzles out into silence. Good, he thinks.

He strains his ears, focusing on listening to every minute sound he can possibly hear. There is the slightest breeze, though it’s scarcely enough to jostle the bald trees of the woods. He doesn’t hear any bugs - it’s too cold anymore. There’s the occasional distant clink of metal. It’s just barely there, the result of the powerlines cutting between the hills probably contracting in the cold temperature.

Yeosang almost gets lulled into a false sense of security, but then he hears it again. The shifting of brush. It sounds closer. The cryptozoologist tenses. He strains, waiting to hear that noise again.

The snap of a twig almost sends him flying. Then he hears it again, dry leaves crunching, branches whipping around, cutting air after being pulled back. There’s a rhythm to it. The soft sound of something hitting the ground, one after the other.

“I think that’s it,” Yeosang whispers as quietly as he can.

The noises approach, hastier and hastier by the second. Yeosang steels himself, steadying his breath and focusing on the noise. It’s coming from straight toward him. 

“Bodycam,” Wooyoung says quietly, making Yeosang gasp.

“R-Right, yeah.” He responds, pressing the record button with shaky fingers.

The creature’s footsteps grow closer, and shadows begin to shift. The moon sits high in the sky, beaming silver light between the barren branches of the trees. A collage of shadows forms beneath the canopy, and among them one stands out. The murky form grows larger and larger, approaching in tandem with the sound.

Yeosang nearly chokes on air. “It’s here- through the trees- it’s-”

“The cam, Yeosang. See if you can get an angle with the cam.”

“Right, right.” Yeosang stands straight up, facing the sound. “You see anything?”

“Huh.” Wooyoung tuts. “I don’t see anything. Just a bunch of shadows.”

“Yeah, me nei-mm-” Yeosang clamps his mouth shut instantly upon spotting a movement. “Did you-”

“Fuck. Stand still, Yeosang. Stand still…”

“Quiet, please,” Yeosang whispers back. He fixates on the point between the trees ahead of him. His heartbeat picks up as the noises resume, this time louder. Closer.

Moonlight gradually reveals more and more of the stalking shadow as it approaches. It begins taking shape, transforming from something vague to a figure. Something broad. Yeosang’s guts toil, a mix of anticipation, nerves and awe.

“Holy shit,” Yeosang blurts out, breathy. It steps forward, and Yeosang can start discerning more details. Long fur, bipedal posture, broad, muscled shoulders. “It’s here.”

His jaw drops, and his anxiety becomes awash with wonder.

This is it.

The culmination of their research, their effort, their  _ calling _ . It’s a rush of validation-fueled adrenaline surging through his veins. It’s real. They knew it was real, sure, felt damn sure of it. But knowing and believing and researching and exchanging tips on private servers is different than encountering a  _ creature _ . He imagines this is what it’s like for the faithful to have a “come to Jesus moment”. 

Yet there it stands at that very moment, not even fifty yards away. Their mark. Their object of fascination, obsession, muse, work.  _ Their werewolf. _

“Oh, wow,” Wooyoung blurts out, equally as astonished. “Yeosang, it’s big.”

Yeosang wants to respond, but his mind is too clouded, distracted by the massive beast fast approaching. The closer it gets, the more he can discern. There’s always been questions regarding the appearance of werewolves, debates. Where on the spectrum of beast and man do they fall, really?

Its fur is long, but thin - relative to the coat of a wolf, anyway. It covers the body which, beneath the neck, is very human-esque. Yeosang can make out the shape of long limbs, muscle easily distinguishable even beneath the dark fur. There are dark ears, tall, consistent with common theory and wolf anatomy.

The creature picks up it’s walking pace, and Yeosang immediately sobers up.

That creature, the incredible, awe-inspiring creature, is fast approaching.

“Shit,” Yeosang mutters under his breath, so quiet his mic doesn’t even pick it up.

It goes so quickly, as a matter of fact, that it hunches over and begins trotting with a quadripedal gait.

“ _ Shit _ .” He whispers.

It occurs to Yeosang that maybe this was  _ not  _ the best idea. He isn’t sure what exactly he imagined the situation to be like. Sure, he may have imagined different scenarios and, yes, he did prepare himself mentally. Or so he thought. The truth is, actually being in the sights of a werewolf they know is responsible for multiple disappearances - well, that’s a coming to Jesus moment of a different kind. Or, perhaps it’s more apt to say, it’s a coming to sanity moment.

“Yeosang, is everything okay?” Wooyoung asks.

“I- It’s- it’s fine.” Yeosang murmurs. Something keeps him rooted in place. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s fear, like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe it’s pride or even stupidity, some part of him still believing things can go to plan.

“Yeosang-”

“It’s fine.” He hisses. “Just- Just wait, let me- let me-”

“Yeosang it’s there, the wolf-”

“I know. I know it’s coming I know it’s-” Yeosang chokes on his last syllable as the creature halts just a few yards away. He can hear it panting and see its breath fog up beneath the moonlight.  _ It  _ can see and hear  _ him _ . Yeosang wonders if the wolf can hear his heart beating against his sternum or the way his breath shudders. They do say that animals can smell fear. There’s no doubt in Yeo’s mind a werewolf would have the capability, too.

The werewolf casts its gaze on the human, smothering what little nerve Yeosang had remaining. He’s in deep now. There’s a muffled sound, Wooyoung hushedly droning about the stun gun, the pepper spray. Run away.

  
No, Yeosang thinks. He doesn’t dare run. That will only instigate something far worse than this cursory posturing. He can hear the thing sniff and make out the gentle bobbing of it’s snout - it does have a snout. It has the face of a wolf, actually. All but the eyes, anyway. There’s something undeniably human about them. They’re dark, darker than any wolf’s eyes Yeosang has seen.

His heart lurches when their gazes lock. It sends rippling pain across his torso. 

  
Then he hears the growling.

  
Deep from the chest, the sound rumbles out from the massive creature and slowly, it begins to rise. Lifting off of it’s forelimbs, the werewolf stretches high, high, high toward the sky. It’s massive. Tall and hulking and suddenly offended. Yeosang watches with a wide-eyed gaze as it stands upright until finally straightening out into a tower of intimidating, irate muscle.

Up close, Yeosang can see its lips draw back, revealing a set of large, sharp teeth. They could easily tear into him, maybe even take off a minor appendage. No - they could definitely take off a minor appendage. Yeo’s legs begin to shake violently, threatening to bring him stumbling to the ground.

Use the stun gun, Wooyoung insists. Run.

Yeosang takes a step back, and the werewolf takes one - a large one - toward him.

Fuck.

He did not think this through.

He did not think this through at all.

And now he’s paying for it. Making Wooyoung pay for it. They’ll get valuable data - a visual, a genuine visual. But at what cost? Yeosang wonders if he can make it out with at least one arm. His desperate, nervous brain begins frantically searching for some answer. He concedes that maybe the stun gun is the way to go, but the second his arm so much as twitches, the thing takes another step toward him.

How is he gonna get out of this?

How the fuck is he going to get out of this?

Probably not unharmed, he thinks. It doesn’t make sense to him, though. In spite of his desperate state, the logical part of him still wants to rationalize the werewolf’s behavior. Is it truly such a territorial, solitary creature that another “wolf” on his territory is so upsetting? If it thinks of Yeosang as prey, why has it not leapt yet? It must still be assessing him, he figures, trying to size him up. For what? Why is its gaze boring straight into his eyes-

His eyes.

The light in Yeosang’s foggy brain finally lights up.

The werewolf is sizing him up because he’s standing upright, looking him head on. He sees Yeosang as another “wolf” and, per wolf behavior, Yeosang is acting like he’s trying to contend with the dominant in some way. Yeosang immediately averts his gaze and shies away. He knows it’s dangerous to take his eyes off the creature, but this is the best chance he’s got.

  
The human tries to make his body smaller without making any sudden movements. He bows his head and slowly gets into a crouching position. The werewolf’s demeanor doesn’t seem to change. It remains steadfast, standing tall and growling, the picture of intimidation. Yeosang slowly gets onto his back, leaving his stomach exposed and vulnerable. A gesture of submission.

The werewolf remains stuck in place for a few more moments until the growling diminishes. Yeosang doesn't dare move. His mind reels with possibilities as to the creature’s next move.

“Yeosang, I can’t see,” Wooyoung’s voice finally manages to pierce the haze in Yeosang’s mind. “The camera, I can’t- are you okay?”

“I’m submitting,” He whispers. The werewolf can obviously hear it, but it doesn’t appear agitated by Yeosang’s speaking. “It’s okay, I’m submitting.”

Heavy footsteps approach, and in moments, the moon’s light is eclipsed by broad shoulders. Yeosang doesn’t dare make eye contact. Instead, he gets a look at the creature - as good a look as he can in the dark, anyway. Up close, he can see even more defined musculature. Something he didn’t notice prior was the creature’s proportions. Its waist is tiny, small even by human standards. Its hands are more human-like with opposable thumbs; however, they are tipped with long, sharp claws. The feet are, as expected, more canine-like - something Yeosang can see all too well given that it’s standing right at his feet.

The werewolf leans down, and Yeosang has to suppress his urge to yelp. He bites his lip, eyes squeezing shut as the creature bears over him. It starts to smell him. Yeosang can feel the heat radiating off of the thing, can feel the way its breath bounces off of his thick parka. 

Wooyoung stutters,“Y-Yeosang, fuck- it’s-”

“Just sniffing,” Yeosang whispers. “It’s just- ffh-aheh-ah-” In spite of his caution, Yeosang finds himself unable to stop his body from convulsing as the werewolf’s wet nose bumps his neck. The thing sniffs, apparently enamored with the other’s scent.

“Fuck-!”

“It’s- ‘sokay- just tickles.”

The werewolf lets out a low groan of sorts. It’s not unlike the sound a dog makes when it tries “talking”. It doesn’t sound angry. Given the canine facial features, Yeosang imagines the creature isn’t capable of vocalizing or communicating with spoken language in its wolf form. He wonders if that bothers it. It must feel like trying to talk to someone who doesn’t understand the language you’re speaking. Of course, that’s under the assumption that there is still some human will during the time of transformation. The level of consciousness during the transformation is a hotly debated topic. And, while Yeosang usually loves to contemplate such things, in the present moment he has much more pressing concerns. Literally.

The werewolf’s snout moves down, sniffing incessantly all over the human’s body. Yeosang does his best not to squirm at the prodding sensation. He feels slightly more at ease, but he isn’t sure what exactly the verdict is going to be. The werewolf lets out another sound - something communicative. He wonders if talking to it would help his case. For some reason, he feels inclined to do so.

“I’m a friend,” Yeosang says in a voice he hopes sounds soothing.

“Seriously?” Wooyoung huffs.

“That’s right. Smell all you want and  _ ignore  _ the voice coming through the earpiece.”

The werewolf’s snout makes its way back over to Yeosang’s exposed neck, digging in determinedly between layers of fabric. The wet sensation makes Yeo tingle, and he lets out another involuntary laugh. He very nearly feels relief, but it’s abruptly halted when the creature parts its muzzle.

Yeosang freezes as teeth graze the base of his neck.

“Yeosang.” Wooyoung chokes out. “Yeosang, please. The stun gun, the fucking stun gun.”

Yeosang worriedly tries to wiggle his arm toward his pocket when teeth press against flesh.

Fuck.

Yeo braces himself for skin breaking, for searing pain and hot blood gushing out of his neck. Teeth press against his skin almost as if sampling, just barely putting pressure.

Then they leave.

The werewolf licks the spot, shocking Yeosang more than an actual bite would have. Yeo’s eyes open wide, and in his peripheral, he manages to spot something waving behind the wolf.

“I- I think it was a play bite,” Yeosang mutters. “His tail it’s-”

“Oh my god, Yeosang. O-Oh my god.” Wooyoung’s voice seeps with relief.

“Yeah- Yeah that’s- you’re playing aren’t you?” Yeosang refers to the wolf. It lets out a sound Yeo swears sounds pleased. “Yeah just playing with- with- ah-” He swallows those words - something that seems to be happening a lot.

The werewolf begins nosing at his crotch insistently. He can hear the werewolf’s breaths - rhythmic and fast. The sensation makes Yeosang lurch. He assumed the werewolf would lose interest, but after two solid minutes of it nudging and smelling, attempting to burrow between layers of clothes, he realizes it’s something else. One would think he’d stashed meat in his crotch with how interested the damn thing is.

  
Then, yet again, another light bulb flickers on.

“Yeosang, what’s it doing?” Woo asks. The sound of ripping fabric sounds like thunder in the quiet of the night. The noise rips through the clearing, echoing across the wood. “What the  _ fuck  _ was that? Can you, like, prop yourself up to see?”

A shiver runs down Yeosang’s spine as the cool night air hits his bare ass. The thing managed to tear through three layers of clothing like it was nothing. Once again the cold, wet nose jabs against skin. It’s a lot more sensitive down there, though, and Yeosang has to grip his improvised “nest” in a vice to avoid jerking too much.

Per Wooyoung’s request (and to satisfy his own curiosity) he moves slowly to prop himself up on his elbows. The werewolf’s tail still wags as it drives home, snout brushing across his inner thighs.

“Oh my god it’s giving you head,” Wooyoung jokes.

Yeosang would tell the other to fuck off if not for the strange sensation ballooning in his abdomen.

“It’s, it’s just exploring-ng-” A long tongue swipes between his legs, followed by another one of those sounds.

“Yeosang- Visual-”

“I’m-” Yeosang tries to sit further upright, and something catches his eye. “Fuck.”

“Yeosang get out of there,” Wooyoung says, mirth gone from his voice.

“N-No, it’s fine.”

“Yeosang get the fuck out of there.”

“It’s- it’s okay, it’s okay-”

“Yeosang-”

“It’s fine.”

“Yeosang, you  _ said  _ you were joking-”

“This is what we came here for.”

“Yeah, but that- It- I can’t watch you-”

“Then don’t.”

“ _ What _ ?!”

“Don’t watch. Cut the feed.”

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“Then you’re gonna wanna mute the mic,” Yeosang murmurs. He swallows down the lump in his throat. “Cause it’s lonely out here, isn’t it?”

The werewolf lifts its head at that, actually acknowledges what’s being said for the first time. There’s no explicit indication of understanding but, for some reason - maybe wishful thinking - Yeosang believes that there is comprehension. The werewolf moves up again, lapping at Yeosang’s neck. This time, however, Yeo can feel the other’s member against his leg. In proportion to the creature, the thing is probably the size of his forearm. It’s flushed, engorged and pulsing with intention. There is no mistake for  _ whom  _ it is intended.

Yeosang wasn’t joking when he said he had prepared for this.

It’s not like he’s lubed up and ready to go in that precise moment, but at the very least the thing won’t rip him in half. At least he hopes it won’t. He exposes more of his neck for the nosy beast.

Unsurprisingly, with a creature such as this, there is no ceremony or foreplay. Once it’s ascertained the location of its target, it sees no need to hesitate. Yeosang can feel the werewolf’s member rub against his thighs. It’s hot and slick, sending another set of chills down Yeosang’s spine. Suddenly, he feels about ten degrees hotter. He tries not to fuss too much and focuses on relaxing instead. Yeosang can hear his heartbeat pound loudly in his ears. He imagines the beast can hear it too (assuming it’s got enhanced hearing like a canine). 

This is, in essence, what he signed up for. He will be able to say he had close contact with a werewolf - much,  _ much  _ closer than anyone else in the field (that he knows of) has had! Once he gets past the shame, it would make quite the drinking story. It’s not as if anyone can fault him in the circumstances, anyway. What options does he  _ really  _ have when a massive werewolf with gnarly canines and rippling muscles twice his size is hulking over him?

It takes the monster a few tries to line itself up. The werewolf thrusts blindly, more interested with the scent of Yeosang’s nape than anything else. It makes a few more clumsy attempts before aligning properly. Yeosang swallows down a gasp at the sensation of the searing head making contact with his entrance. A wave of heat washes over his body as the beast hastily breaches him.

The human’s head lolls back into the “nest”, and he spreads his legs reflexively to take the werewolf’s girth. He focuses on breathing to mitigate the sting of it. Being stretched with naught but a werewolf’s prejac isn’t exactly what he’d call ideal. Thankfully, it hurts less than it could have. Overall he thinks of the sensation as invasive, almost probing. The werewolf’s throbbing member seems to stretch on forever as it sinks in. Yeosang lets out a breath of relief when the thing finally bottoms out, long fur brushing against the man’s sensitive skin.

“-eosang are you okay?” Wooyoung asks.

Yeosang answers strainedly, “I’m- ‘s fine.” His face scrunches and contorts as he rides out the overwhelming sensation of the werewolf shifting around inside him. It’s too much too quick, and it takes all of his concentration not to dwell on the dull pain burning inside of him. Normally, he wouldn’t mind the comforting voice of his best friend to help distract him. However, given the particular circumstances, the sound of the other’s voice just makes things worse.

“I- I should go over ther-”

“It’ll smell you and get territorial. D-Don’t.”

Yeosang hopes the other can understand his voice since it’s more breath than speech. The other doesn’t respond to his remark, which he takes as a silent concession. In the silence following their back and forth, Yeo is left with little else to think about than the creature mounting him (not that he’d forgotten or anything). 

The werewolf’s breath and body are hot against his skin. Suddenly, the layers of clothing he’d worn to protect himself feel stifling, suffocating. Yeosang almost wishes the creature would rip them off. It’s getting difficult for him to breathe. Of course, that may very well be due to the werewolf’s massive cock impaling him.

Teeth close around Yeosang’s shoulder yet again, making the human’s heart rate hasten. The beast’s grip is more firm this time - not quite playful, but not intent on harm either. Perhaps it’s to hold the human in place, Yeosang muses. He vaguely remembers something similar being common among canines. It indicates that the werewolf state makes the mind more feral than not.

The werewolf’s movement - much like every other aspect of the coupling - is abrupt. Yeosang bites his fist and throws his head back as the werewolf takes on a steady rhythm. It’s not nearly as frenzied or forceful as Yeosang expected. That isn’t to say taking the thing is a walk in the park, though. Yeosang wills himself to relax, shutting his eyes and trying to steady his breathing. Every thrust threatens to rob his lungs of air. The sting of the stretch begins to feter off slowly (something that definitely validates his preparation). It could definitely hurt more, not that it’s pleasant.

Above him, the beast occasionally lets out low hums. The sounds are barely audible. Even so, Yeosang swears he can discern something pleased sounding in them. Of course, that might be projection - the manifestation of his hopeful optimism or, even worse, the culmination of his (not-so) subconscious thirst surfacing. There are other things going on, though. So many sensations that he can’t really lend credence to whatever it is he’s projecting onto the literal monster mounting him. So much for the distraction.

Yeosang’s eyes water as the werewolf uses him to its content. The beast starts getting sloppier, slipping out, rutting against his thighs as it pants against his neck. The werewolf’s throbbing cock drools more than its mouth, precome oozing out of the tapered cockhead. It coats Yeosang’s abdomen and thighs, the liquid almost searing as it runs down his groin.

When the monster manages to drive home again, a grunt actually slips out of Yeosang. It feels different - still huge, yes, and an effort to take, too, but now it’s wet, too, spilling precome inside as the mess it’d made between his legs gushes out of his hole. Yeosang hopes to god Wooyoung had listened to his request to cut the feed. Not only is the noise he made humiliating; the wet squelch of the werewolf fucking him without abandon is downright vile. It’s loud, too, almost deafening in contrast to the silence of the woods. He knows he’ll sure as hell be sore after this ordeal - both his body and pride.

He doesn’t realize how weak it’s making him until he tries to move. The human reaches with shaky arms to hook his hands under his knees. He’s not super flexible, but he tries his hardest to open up as much as possible. The werewolf’s presence is searing, throbbing member molten inside him, radiating warmth. Yeosang can hear it start panting from exertion as it gets faster, sloppier. He grits his teeth in a futile attempt to stop noises from leaving his mouth. Instead, he sort of sounds like he’s choking on a frog or something, the strained sounds punching out from his throat. Strangely enough, he starts getting used to it, in a way. Acclimated in such a way that his brain starts getting scrambled, too, along with his insides.

The realization that he’s being mounted by a werewolf is, in a way, awe-inspiring. It’s far from the prestigious, moving experience one may assign to, say, making alien contact for the first time. But he’s still there, making contact - meaningful contact - with a creature many think is nothing but myth. He’s making a connection, validating his research, even conducting it, during his brief lapses into lucidity. All he has to do is turn his head to see the true magnificence of the form on top of him. The beast’s claws are massive, two to three inches long, sharp and gnarly. Even beneath the long fur, Yeosang can make out bulging muscles. The thing is so ripped it’s almost like it’s bursting at the seams. Like one errant move will make muscle burst through skin. The teeth lovingly nudging at his nape could easily pierce the skin and rip out a hunk of the human’s body.

But… For some reason, because of some half-cooked theory, it isn’t.

It’s just… Mating. Fulfilling a primal urge that drives many mammals. One that Yeosang has neglected too long, apparently. That’s the only explanation he’s willing to supply for why he’s rock hard at this point. It’s just loneliness, he rationalizes. The pent up tension he’s been carrying around for too many years taking opportunity in one of his few outlets. It’s got nothing to do with the way the ache of stretching is subsiding, how he can’t stop watching the werewolf’s massive cock disappearing inside of him, how knowing the thing can eviscerate him but is choosing not to affects him, or even the not-so-subconscious awareness that maybe Wooyoung is listening - none of that! Nope!

It’s just physical stimulation!

Physical stimulation that’s making it harder for Yeosang to stay neat and unfussy. The human starts squirming, body lurching, toes curling. He refuses to allow himself any sudden movements, terrified it’ll alarm the werewolf and set it off. Still, it gets harder to ignore the pressure ballooning in his gut. It’s genuinely been a while since he’s gotten his insides so thoroughly rearranged, he reminds himself. And it’s safe to say it’s never been like this. He’s not a size snob or anything, and even his worst partners were never quite so… Wild. A hand of his flinches - a reflex, a want to grab, to satisfy the pressure slowly burning in the pit of his gut. Everything feels so hot and uncomfortable. His bangs stick to his brow, and his clothes cling to his sweaty skin. He just wants to rip them all off and surrender to everything; his dignity, his safety, he’d give anything to quell the increasingly urgent itch.

The werewolf isn’t trying, really. There’s no indication of conscious effort toward skill or, well, anything other than a means to an end. In spite of that, it brushes the right spot, pulling a pathetic gasp out of the human. It’s loud, shamefully so, and for the first time, the wolf actually takes pause.

Yeosang freezes, terrified he’d pissed the beast off. 

The werewolf relinquishes its weak hold on Yeosang’s neck and lifts itself up slightly. It’s still fully sheathed inside the human, of course, but at the very least it stops. It gives Yeosang a chance to catch his breath at least somewhat (not that it’s easy to breathe with that inside of him). Despite his muddied brain, Yeosang is cognizant enough to remember he shouldn’t make eye contact. The werewolf, however, has free reign to look where it pleases. Yeo can feel the creature’s gaze on him. The beast almost appears to be observing him. Appraising the tiny person beneath it, wondering where the sound came from.

In the absence of their lewd coupling, everything is quiet. Yeosang can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He can practically hear his blood gushing through his veins, rushing to his face, ears, and groin. His hips ache from holding himself open for so long, and his body starts to go slack without intention. With his head turned to the side, Yeosang can see the creature’s hands flex, claws sinking further into the makeshift “nest”. The human swallows down a lump of fear. He prays over and over: please don’t be pissed, please don’t be pissed, please don’t be pissed.

The werewolf bears down on him. It leans in so close Yeosang can feel the beast’s breath bounce off of his cheek. He can hear the other sniff again. Why? Has the pheromone started wearing off? The werewolf just quietly sniff, sniff, sniffs, wet nose occasionally grazing the human’s clammy skin, making him wince.

Then, the unexpected. A tongue swipes the human’s cheek. Yeosang startles slightly at the surprise. Then comes another. And another. The creature lets out a sound of sorts. It’s quiet, almost like a whisper, just a soft whine, then licks him one more time. Yeosang can hardly let out a sigh of relief because just as abruptly as it’d stopped, the werewolf is moving. 

“A-ah-” The human can’t hold back the noise this time.

The werewolf brushes his prostate again, tapered cockhead hitting the spot just right. It sends a shock through Yeosang’s entire body. The jolt of pleasure runs up his spine and radiates to the tips of his fingers and his toes. He releases one of his legs, using the hand to cover his mouth instead. Wooyoung joked about the whole werewolf sex tape thing, but, in a sick twist of irony, it’s starting to become true. Yeosang bites into the plush sleeve of his parka to smother his groans. His eyes screw shut as he tried to weather the sensations assailing him. The soreness of his body pales in comparison to the mounting pressure in his gut.

Yeosang has to remind himself to breathe through it when he starts feeling lightheaded. Her can all too easily see a reality in which he passes out. He’d go limp beneath the beast, truly turning into nothing but a cocksleeve with a face. He tries not to fixate on that mental image too much. The werewolf’s ministrations make it easy. The beast picks up in speed, almost urgent, feverish and panting. Yeosang bites down on his sleeve harder, drool seeping into the fabric, staining it. He imagines he’ll walk out of this with a lot of stains, especially since his hard-on is still confined in his (ripped) pants. Of course, the idea of walking out seems a bit optimistic, all things considered. Maybe he’ll limp out. If he’s lucky.

It’s gotta be close, he thinks.

His suspicions are quickly confirmed when the beast jerkily stops. It bottoms out, thrusting in roughly before halting abruptly. For a few seconds, the beast just sulks over him, heavily panting as if catching its breath. Yeosang doesn’t feel anything at first, and he’s confused. It isn’t making any move to pull out - or, well, do anything, really. The broad beast just looms over the human for a few moments quietly. The silence in the wake of the profane, wet slapping of flesh is almost deafening. It nearly unsettles Yeosang, but his attention quickly gets snatched away.

He starts to feel a pressure.

Something pushes against his insides. He can feel it balloon inside of him, just beyond his sloppy, slick entrance. It connects a dot that he’d been tentative about drawing in regards to anatomy. Given the werewolf’s other traits, it made sense. Still, even though a ghost of a thought may have crossed his mind in the past, he wasn’t prepared to get knotted. Sure, with how much he’d been fucked at that point, it doesn’t necessarily hurt too bad. It’s a minor sting, easily drowned out by the twelve-thousand other things and sensations running through Yeosang’s mind. 

But it’s not about the physical sensation. There’s something weirdly psychological about it. It tickles his brain in a funny way. Something about being knotted, just straight up plugged by a fucking werewolf, there’s a finality to it. And it becomes impossible to deny the facts that, firstly: Yeosang’s theory actually had some credence to it and, secondly: he’s about to get bred. This werewolf has made him its bitch and is about to make good on that carnal promise to pass its genetic material on. Not only did Yeosang let it, he  _ invited  _ it to do just that. Now he’s on the receiving end of consequence for his glib theorycrafting, and he’s not sure how he feels about it. He thinks maybe he’ll reflect on it. One day.

However, he’s a bit busy at the moment.

Yeosang reflexively clenches around the knot. He shifts and wiggles, in hopes of relieving some of the pressure that’s brewing in his abdomen. Somehow, like a snared mouse, the struggle makes the other lodge more deeply inside of him. At least, it feels like it does. His sweaty hand slides down the one leg he’d managed to keep propped up, and his entire body shakes. His muscles shudder like they would right before giving up during a hard workout. What little control he has over his body starts to slip away, and he loses it completely once the beast moves again.

They’re not feverish, wild movements like before. No, it’s just a few rough thrusts, a couple to drive the werewolf’s cock in deep, lodge it in there before it finally comes. The liquid is molten as it floods Yeosang’s insides. He swears, he  _ swears _ , he can feel it actually sitting in his stomach, hot and leaden and sticky, like warm syrup. Yeosang lets out possibly the most pathetic sound he’s ever made. He actually tears up from the sensation. He’s so hot and full, the beast’s cock and all the fluid just inundating him. 

“Oh- ‘mm-mmgod-” He whimpers as an orgasm crashes over him like a tidal wave. He gasps for air, chest heaving and body writhing as he spends himself inside his torn pants. The werewolf’s cock throbs, twitching as it comes for what feels like a fucking year. Drool runs down Yeosang’s chin as he gasps and his body starts convulsing. He’s spent, but the werewolf is still there, still hard still coming, and he doesn’t know if he can take it. He knew there was always a risk of death with the idea, but he never thought it’d be like this.

His body moves like one of a man possessed. It’s all lurching and jerking, throwing his head back and twisting his neck, mouth flapping open and closed, grasping for air as guttural whines trickle out. His vision goes white, splotches of fuzzy color blurring out the beast, the trees and the moon silhouetting all of them in its silver light. Even the palms of his hands feel tickly and funny. His fingers twitch as do his toes. Not a single inch of his body is left unfettered.

He eventually gets roused by a tongue lapping at his cheek. Though his breathing is more ragged, he feels as if he’s over the bulk of whatever that was. To call it an orgasm didn’t seem apt. He’s fairly certain he whited out for a second. All from the uncouth humping of a literal monster. He really does need to get out more after this. (Assuming he survives the ordeal.)

Yeosang sluggishly props himself up on an elbow, inadvertently bumping the werewolf’s snout in doing so. He wanted to get a look in truth. He needed to assess the damage done. Even though he feels like he got run over by a pleasure truck, he’s lucid enough to remember how he found himself in the position. 

  
Science.

He needs to do science.

Samples.

Pushing aside how gross it sounded to him, he genuinely hoped he wasn’t gaping too much. Even slightly contaminated, werewolf come is a hell of a score. There are vials waiting in his pocket. He plans on reaching for them once his fingers stop tingling. No doubt in their rigorous activity, the thing has left behind other markers, too. The saliva will probably be too dry, but he might have luck with a swab. Plus any shed fur. As Yeosang appraises his condition, he notices that the werewolf’s tail is wagging. Nice.

A crackle of static gives Yeosang a start. He completely forgot that he’d been wearing an earpiece. An earpiece connected to his walkie, connected to the private frequency used by him and Wooyoung.

Fuck.

Wooyoung.

“You okay?” The other’s voice comes in crackly and strained. 

That was probably not easy or pleasant to hear. Though Yeosang begged him to cut the feed, he knows Wooyoung. The guy’s a curious shit, and his worry is definitely genuine. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . A fresh set of tears stings Yeosang’s eyes, this time out of shame. Wooyoung heard that. Probably saw that. Probably both. Wooyoung saw him like  _ that  _ \- pathetic, whimpering, braindead and  _ pliant  _ for a literal fucking monster. 

Yeosang had no idea how they’d look each other in the eye like this. This isn’t like the time(s) Yeosang walked in on Wooyoung hooking up or when Wooyoung found one of Yeosang’s vibrators. 

Yeo tries to steady himself, taking a few breaths. His body cam probably didn’t capture much given where it’s placed. He tries to soothe his nerves and tell himself that it’s fine, that his friend doesn’t think of him as some wretched degenerate, isn’t judging him too hard, isn’t going to feel awkward- fuck, of course he’ll feel awkward.

Science.

  
That’s what they’re there to do, right?

Science.

That is why Yeosang went out there… Right?

Science?

“Yeah,” Yeosang squeaks out. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just waiting for… For it to be done.”

“Okay.”

“Once it’s dismounted I’ll collect the samples.” Yeo tries to throw a sciency sounding bandaid over the situation. He hopes the other doesn’t note how breathy and fucked out his voice sounds. His insides are still swimming, cock stirring with interest despite everything.

“Are you hurt? Can you walk?”

“I… I might need help walking, I’m not gonna lie. But other than that, the injury is mostly to my pride. My clothes are a bit ripped, too.”

“We’ve got extra in the pack. Along with wipes. I’ll bring everything so you don’t have to wallow in that shit on the ride home.”

“Thanks.”

Yeosang heaves a sigh, looking up at the werewolf who is, once again, sniffing at his nape. He silently thanks it, too, for not fucking killing him. He may never feel satisfied by another orgasm in his life after that one, but that’s beside the point. He’ll be able to forget it eventually. After its knot goes down and it leaves, bored and sated.

Which is due to happen any minute now. Yeosang recalls reading that sometimes knots do last for a while. They’ll stay stuffed inside a mate for several minutes to assure fertilization. Yeosang is suddenly extremely glad his vaccines are up to date. He hadn’t even thought of that before - of course, hindsight is twenty-twenty. There are a lot of things he hadn’t thought of before going with this plan.

Yeosang lays back, content to let the beast love on him. The werewolf sniffs and licks in a way that the other perceives as content. It even lets out a few little groaning “talking” sounds. The mess in his pants starts to become a nuisance, as did that coating his inner thighs and running down his ass crack. He tries his damndest to find some semblance of comfort, slumping against his cushioned nest.

Any minute now.

The human desperately wants to try petting the werewolf. It is quite furry, and he’s curious how the fur would feel between his fingers. Coarse, probably. Hopefully not like human hair, though. That would be weird. So, so weird. 

The werewolf backs off and watches Yeosang with its dark eyes. It makes him shudder. They’re so, so human. It’s a harrowing reminder that, beneath it all, there is - or was - a person. There are different running theories about a werewolf’s transformation. Some say it’s permanent, others say it’s only during the time of the full moon. Some believe it can be controlled while others theorize that it can be manipulated with simulated moonlight. While a few theorize that werewolves live among humans as normal people, many find it hard to believe. If they do, they’re elusive and secretive as hell. Not one has come forward to represent their kind, not one has been discovered. It’s eerie, actually.

Yeosang doesn’t know this werewolf’s story, but he can tell that someone’s in there. To him, that’s the scariest thing. It freaks him out more than the giant claws or huge fangs. Even more than the sharp skeleton wrapped in muscle or the long fur covering its body.

There’s someone in there.

And while he does often dwell on such contemplations for longer, this time he finds it rather difficult, because there’s also someone in him. Literally. Still.

“Wooyoung how long has it been?” Yeosang asks.

“What?”

“How long has it been since I… Since it, um- since you contacted me?”

“What, like a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah. Like, how long.”

“Wha- I dunno, like-” There’s a pause, probably Woo glancing at a clock. “-like ten, actually.”

Ten minutes.

That seems like a long time.

“Why?” Wooyoung asks.

“Um, it still, it- it isn’t done.”

“...Huh?”

“I- You know, just- never mind.” Yeosang shifts around carefully. He winces at the sensation of the knot pulling at his rim. Even the beast’s cock is still hard, firmly locked inside of him, immoving.

“Just give me the signal when it’s done, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Any chance you can stick it with a tracker?”

“Not… Not gonna risk it, I don’t think.”

“Fair.”

“Yeah um- uh-uhmm-” Yeosang clamps his mouth shut.

“What?”

It’s moving again.

Fuck.

Yeosang’s entire body seizes up as the werewolf starts moving its hips yet again. 

What the fuck?

The werewolf appears completely unbothered, nosing at Yeosang’s nape, nipping delicately. It’s completely nonplussed as it picks up again. Apparently, the thing was just taking a breather, and it’s time for round two.

Fuck.

What makes this devastating - aside from the catastrophic, apocalyptic orgasm Yeosang had hearlier - is that, in addition to the massive, veiny, throbbing cock and the bulbous knot impaling him, the thing is sloshing around what feels like a gallon of fucking come inside of him. Yeosang thought the sound was gross before but, fuck, was he wrong. It sounds wet and so thoroughly wrong.

“It’s- It’s not done-” Yeosang mutters breathlessly.

“What?! But I thought-”

“Not done, Woo. Just- I’ll let you know, ‘kay?”

“...Yeosang, I’m serious, if you need me to go down there-”

“It’s fine. Do not.” Yeosang’s voice is clipped. He’s proud of himself for getting that out, because having his insides rearranged (again) is a hell of an ordeal. Even moreso when he feels his insides bubbling, warming with the sickeningly familiar sensation of buildup he had shortly before.

The wolf picks up into it’s wild, careless pace again, panting as it presses its muzzle against the human’s neck. Yeosang just takes it this time. His body goes slack. He just lets himself drown in the sensation. He’s powerless to fight it, anyway. And, though he’ll never admit it, he doesn’t really want to.

It feels good.

His mind turns to soup. 

The werewolf is… virile. It must be a triumphant hunter to have such energy and endurance. Yeosang lets the beast use him to its content - which is quite a lot, actually. His second orgasm is dry, a wave of heat bursting through him only to leave him shuddering in his own old mess. He sneaks a hand down to palm himself after that. The friction is more gross than anything, smearing around the mess beneath; but he’s so far gone it makes him shiver.

He gets turned over at some point, after round two, he thinks. His torso slumps limply on the ground as he props his ass up. As a degenerate reading hentai, he never really got the whole ahegao, fucked stupid thing. Until now, anyway. He’s pretty sure that, a couple times, Wooyoung checks on him. Yeosang’s responses come out as grunts that maybe, somewhat resemble syllables of words. He can’t be sure. The werewolf’s dick might as well be in his skull at this point.

After the third time, he actually starts to feel bloated which would be embarrassing if not for, well, the entire night. He literally pissed himself at some point, so being a posterboy for come inflation is hardly a trifle. 

After the fourth time, the wolf slows again, cock throbbing as it pants. Yeosang wonders if this’ll be the last time, but he doesn’t hold his hopes out. He’s hot, sticky and spent, and there are so many questions running through his head, just hidden by the curtain of haze covering his thoughts.

The werewolf lets out a sigh and lowers itself - actually lowers itself - on top of Yeosang. The human thinks it strange, but despite how sweaty he is, it feels nice. Like a fuzzy blanket. He supposes that thought is indicative of how far gone he is. But he isn’t able to really process much beyond that. The night’s physical exertions went far beyond anything he ever anticipated, and the moon is starting to dip low into the sky. In his half-conscious state, Yeosang perceives the creature shifting above him, changing position slightly again. It’s almost laying half on top of the human, but not all of its weight is on him, thankfully. All that muscle and height could probably crush him with ease.

The last thing Yeosang really registers before passing out is the slight tug of the beast’s knot against his abused entrance. Enveloped in the creature’s warmth, he all too easily succumbs to the wiles of sleep.

* * *

Sunlight burns through Yeosang’s eyelids, bright, orange, distorted. 

The cryptozoologist grimaces, face contorting from the disruption.

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang whispers to himself.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

His muscles are sore like he’d had a rough day at the gym. His legs and hips are sore from being held in weird positions, his throat is sore and scratchy, dry from dehydration. And his ass? Fuck. He’s so fucked up that he can still feel the other inside of him, like a ghost limb or some shit. Yeosang doesn’t want to even entertain the idea of sitting down. The previous night’s events are all too clear to Yeosang, and the wreckage around him indicates that it wasn’t some gnarly wet dream he had. He is, however, wet. Very, very wet. His torn pants are soaked through with bodily fluids, some of which have sort of dried while others yet remain uncomfortably slick. Ew.

He needs water. He needs water, a bath, maybe an exorcism (though he’s not religious). But, first and foremost, he needs Wooyoung. Where is he, anyway? Yeosang woke up in the same bedraggled nest he’d passed out in. It’s not like the werewolf took him back to some cave.

“Wooyoung?” Yeosang calls out weakly. Their walkies have decent battery life, he should be able to pick up. “Wooyoung?” He tries again.

“Wh-Hm- Ye-Yeo! ‘M awake!” The other’s crackly voice comes through the earpiece, flooding Yeosang with both dread and awake. “Mmfuck. Fuck, ‘re you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…” Yeosang tries to sit up, but something keeps him down. His own body - at least he thinks so at first. He assumes it’s his own weariness weighing him down, but, no it isn’t. It isn’t his body at all.

It takes a few moments for the sight to process. There’s an arm slung over Yeosang’s waist, casual and heavy. Yeosang’s gaze dazedly traces the limb, finding an elbow, bicep, shoulder…

A human.

A human?

“Oh, fuck!” Yeosang gasps.

“Shit- What is it? Is- Is it still there? Shit.” Wooyoung panics. Yeo can hear the sound of things shuffling in the background.

“Wooyoung, there’s it’s- it’s-”

“I don’t give a shit anymore, I’m going, werewolf or no-”

“No, Wooyoung, look at the- the- the feed-”

“The wha- oh- oh…  _ Oh _ . Holy shit.”

“Holy shit…” Yeosang echoes the other with a murmur. 

All he can do is stare over his shoulder, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Glancing over, he finds himself face to face with a human. The man looks no older than Yeosang or Wooyoung. Hell, he could be younger - or maybe that’s just how he looks when he’s asleep. Soft. Sweet, even.

The person stirs only slightly, just to cuddle closer to Yeosang. It’s then that Yeosang notices he’s not feeling a “phantom limb” inside of him but a real one. Apparently, he’d cockwarmed the stranger all night.

And now, their werewolf isn’t a werewolf anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // CHAPTER 2 WARNING(s): discussion of dead bodies/corpses/violence, missing persons

“Well, we can’t just leave him there.”

Those were the words that sealed the deal for Yeosang and Wooyoung. It was those words that made their trek back to their old SUV about twenty times harder and a hundred-fifty pounds heavier, give or take. When they got back to camp, Wooyoung kicked the massive pack in Yeosang’s direction, imploring the other to clean up. He reeked, apparently. Judging by the sun, they didn’t actually get in the car until eleven or so. The two hoisted the werewolf’s unconscious body into the back and wrapped him in a blanket like a burrito. Wooyoung had to help the hobbling Yeosang into the passenger seat, and the poor, foolhardy bastard groaned when his ass hit the old leather.

Their ride back to their flat is quiet.

Wooyoung turns on the radio, blasting some local rock station to keep himself awake. He briefly apologizes for passing out. Yeosang can tell that the other feels guiltier than he wants to let on. Neither of them planned for an all-nighter, after all. Seems like the only one between them who slept well is the one snoozing in the backseat. Yeosang checks on the stranger every few minutes - makes sure he’s still breathing, still unconscious, hasn’t slid into the gap between the bench and the front.

“I’ll get him out.” Wooyoung volunteers himself as they approach their rental. The charming seventy’s bungalow is nestled deep in the woods, off of a rural road that sees little traffic outside the residents and the mail trucks. It’s their home - for now. Came furnished with dishes, appliances and not one, but one and a  _ half  _ bathrooms. Gravel crunches beneath the tires of their old land rover when he turns in. Even that, along with the slight jostle of the car as it goes from pavement to uneven ground, doesn’t do anything to disturb the werewolf’s slumber.

“I can help,” Yeosang insists.

“No, you’re, like, fucked up right now.” Woo asserts. He doesn’t look Yeosang in the eye. Hasn’t, really, since they reunited that morning. Yeosang could feel the awkwardness rolling in between them like a thick fog. It was… A lot. For both of them. He’s confident they can get through it, at least. It just might take a bit longer than some of their other uncomfortable moments. That’s all.

“It’s not like I broke something. Seriously, I can help.”

“You also still seriously smell like- well, a lot. Just go in and take a shower.”

“What about our new friend?” Yeosang nods to the passed out werewolf in the back. 

The creature - now human - looks so different wrapped up in a blanket, snoozing away as if they’ve got no care in the world. Even so, there are clear signs of its lifestyle evident at a glance. Dirt is clearly caked under their overgrown fingernails, and grime covers their skin. Their long hair is in a state of disarray, tangled with leaves, twigs, and full of knots. 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “How long d’you think they’ll be out? Pretty sure a shower will wake them up. Then, there’s no telling what they’re gonna do.”

“Whoever they are.”

“Look, why don’t you just shower first. We’ll put ‘em on the couch and figure it out, okay?”

“Can we at least cover it with a tarp, first?” Yeosang eyes the other warily. They really are a mess.

“Ugh- We can lay them on the floor, then. If they’re used to slumming it up in the woods, it’ll be an upgrade, anyway.”

“I’ll be fast. Then I can give them a bath. Not like I haven’t seen them naked already.” Yeosang sighs.

“Whoa- Hey, you don’t have to do it. I’ll do it. Assuming they’re still unconscious.”

“Fuck’s sake, I’m not debilitated, Woo.”

“So you say now. Wait until you have to take a shit.”

“Fucking- Gross, man!” Yeosang weakly smacks the other’s shoulder. It’s nice to hear the other make such a crass joke; it’s like seeing color in someone’s face after they’d been sick. The other just giggles and puts the car in park.

They go back and forth for a while longer arguing about the shower thing. It ends with them splitting the difference and cooperating. After Yeo’s finished, he and Woo drag the still unconscious werewolf into the tub and use the shower wand to hose them off. It’s not unlike bathing a dog that’d rolled around in mud. Layer after layer of dirt washes off into the shower, staining the white tub a dingy brown. Yeosang mutters curses under his breath as he attempts to make sense of the creature’s hair. Despite their utter and complete exhaustion (or maybe because of it), the two get way too damn involved, going so far as to scrubbing under their nails and using a rough sponge to slough off dead skin. Not once does the werewolf open even a single eye. Occasionally they flinch, snore or reposition themselves, but even as they’re being patted dry and manhandled into clothing, they don’t budge.

“You think the transformation takes a lot out of a person?” Yeosang asks with a yawn. His lack of sleep is starting to catch up with him, and judging by Wooyoung’s dark circles and nodding head, the other’s faring no better.

“I… I guess so. They haven’t fucking moved and it’s, what, almost two o'clock?”

“Mmn-yeah, guess so. Could be a nocturnal schedule though.”

“You think?”

“I dunno. I mean, they’re up all night hunting, right?”

“Hm… Maybe. You know who else is nocturnal, though?”

“Hm?”

“Us.”

“Oh. Yeah. Us.”

Wooyoung nods to the queen-sized bed in the single bedroom of the house. The two usually switch off, alternating between the bedroom and the pullout couch. A foam mattress top and some pillows of their own do enough to make the springy pullout adequate. It’s a fair, economical arrangement that works for them. There’s not much privacy, but they don’t often need it, anyway. But now there’s a third person in the mix, and they’re curled up comfortably on the one real bed in the place.

“You should sleep with ‘em.” Wooyoung says.

“I- What?” Yeosang’s eyes widen. He figured they’d share the pullout. “Why?”

“I don’t want them to wake up alone. If they wake up next to you, they might recognize you.”

“I guess.” Yeosang pouts. His stomach toils with an ill, anxious feeling. What if he isn’t remembered by the other? What if Wooyoung is really just disgusted with Yeosang and doesn’t want to be near him? The lack of sleep exacerbates his natural paranoia, and soon his brain is making up awful stories to rationalize the other’s suggestion.

“Leave the door open. If any crazy shit goes down, I’ll hear it. We can work on identifying our roomie here when we wake up.” Wooyoung reassures the other. He seems more tired than anything else. Not disgusted. Not annoyed.

“Kay. G’night, man.” Yeosang responds in concession. He plops onto the bed and, damn does that feel fucking good. 

“Night-niiiight~” Wooyoung singsongs as he leaves the room. His exit is quickly followed by the telltale squeaking sounds of the pullout couch doing it’s not-so-magical transformation into a bed.

Yeosang heaves a sigh and gets ready to pass the fuck out. He shuts the blinds and sets an alarm on his phone so he’s not out until midnight. Sure, he can work remotely at any time, but it’s a real pain in the ass being a night owl when everything in the country closes at nine.

As soon as he hits the mattress, it’s lights out. Not even the dull, throbbing pain knocking on his backside is enough to keep him up.

* * *

Yeosang wakes up when he can no longer stand sleeping in the sweltering heat. He knows it’s cold out, but fuck. Did Wooyoung seriously crank it up that high? It’s dark in the room, but Yeosang’s eyes acclimate fairly quickly. He moves to roll off of the bed and immediately flinches. Shit. Still hurts. Still. Fucking. Hurts. Something else is stopping him from getting off of the bed, though. A familiar weight wrapped around his waist - and the source of the heat, it turns out, too.

“You…?” Yeo murmurs, turning onto his side. Lo and behold, during his slumber, their mysterious werewolf huddled up close. They still look soft as ever - even moreso, now that they’re nice and clean, soft hair still damp and curling at the ends.

There’s someone in there.

It’s interesting to think about, how the other is cuddly both transformed and not. Yeosang has so many questions, but he knows none of them will be answered by sweaty snuggling. Even if it is kind of nice. He and Wooyoung cuddled sometimes. When they got tipsy or just felt like sharing the “big kid bed”, as they deemed it. It’s been a while, though. When he thinks about it more, it really has been a while. Months?

Yeosang wrings a hand down his face and tries to wake up. Reflecting on long-lost cuddles really didn’t do anything to further his cause. Yeo unlatches himself from the other’s sweet, sweaty embrace and stumbles out into the living room. He hisses upon emerging from the warm, dark cocoon into a room full of light.

Their little one-story had a very forward-thinking open concept. Of course, Yeo supposes in a house so small, there’s really no other choice. He steps out into the living room and just fifteen feet beyond that is the kitchen-dining-room combo. Wooyoung’s already hard at work, tapping away at his laptop at the dining room table (which also doubles as their workspace, a cooking prep space, and occasional pillow). His brows are knit together, face the picture of focus. The thick-rimmed glasses sliding down his nose make him look deceptively studious. Yeosang supposes he is studious, at least when it comes to stuff he’s really passionate about.

“Oh, shit, you’re up,” Wooyoung’s brows raised with surprise.

“Uh, I could say the same for you. D’you get a shower?” Yeosang responds, joining the other. His laptop is already sitting there from the previous night’s pre-work. He opens it up by reflex, mostly. He doesn’t even have a plan on how to find the identity of their mystery werewolf. Not yet, anyway.

“Yup. Nice and clean. We should get something to eat.”

“What time is it?”

“Uh, six? Why.”

“Six?” Yeosang glances out the window. It’s almost dark already. Fucking winter, he curses. “When’d we head out last night?”

“Fuck, uh… Past nine.”

“D’you think the transformation starts when the moon initially comes out? Like, you know how even when the sun’s just setting, you can see the moon?”

“Uh, yeah. Why you asking me? You can ask our roomie when they wake up.”

“I guess I’m just wondering how long they’ll be out. I’m guessing close to twenty-four hours.”

“Seems sound. One day to sleep off the bodily transformation hangover. I… I wonder how it feels, you know? You think it hurts?”

“I dunno, but, maybe we can find out once they’re awake.”

“What if they, like, have a family and just step out during the full moon? Did we just abduct someone?”

Yeosang snorts, “I fucking hope not. I mean, we’ll give ‘em back if that’s the case. That’s not consistent with our tracking, though.”

“You’re right. All the markings, the animals… Hm. Well, I haven’t gotten too far in my search, but since you’re up, I kinda wanna make something to eat.”

“Wooyoung, you don’t have to. We can just order in.”

“Nah. I wanna. Delivery options in the area blow, anyway, and I really don’t feel like picking shit up.”

“Ugh. You’re right about delivery in this area.”

“Seriously. Fucking culinary desert, this place,” Wooyoung hoists himself out of the chair and strides into the galley kitchen adjacent the dining “room”. He rifles through the cabinets noisily as he talks. “Told you, we should’ve stayed closer to Pittsburgh. Not like we had to be on site often.”

“Bullshit. That place is three hours away. Shit, Buffalo’s closer than that.”

“Yeah, but then we’d live in fucking Buffalo.” The two chuckle at that. 

Unsurprisingly, urban areas aren’t exactly hotbeds for cryptid activity. Something about high, dense human populations put the beasts off, shockingly. Sure, there are always ghosts, but ghosts aren’t really their thing. They are, after all, cryptozoologists first and foremost. The paranormal investigation is just one of many tangential side hustles.

As a consequence of their calling, the two have ventured a long way from the valley out west from whence they came. They’ve passed through more than their fair share of shitty little towns. Kinda like the types people would see on Diners, Drive-Ins, And Dives - but completely devoid of the charm. They’d heard about the boonies, sure, seen it in movies like Deliverance or even Get Out in more recent times. Living in it proved to be a hell of a lot different. Seemed like wherever they went, eyes followed. It always irked Yeosang, but Wooyoung’s presence was always a comfort.

“We’re probably the only two Asian people in the tri-state area,” He would joke under his breath. 

He always had some little comment to cheer Yeosang up. It made things easier, but they both held onto the hope that one day a lead would take them somewhere like Miami or Honolulu. Hell, they’d even take fucking Ann Arbor at this point. Civilization would be nice. While they’re not so lucky as to be posted close to a real city, they found something so much better.

Someone so much better.

“Kimchi fried rice okay?” Wooyoung asks.

“ _ Fuck _ yes. We haven’t had Korean food in so fucking long.” Yeosang smiles at just the thought of it. Woo’s mom would send them kimchi once every blue moon, and they’d hoard the stuff - take it from house to house in a cooler, guarding it with their lives like it was a briefcase full of cash.

“Figured we could use some comfort after our long ass day yesterday… Yesternight.” The other laughs.

Yeosang’s relieved to see the other isn’t too tense after everything. It seems inevitable that their operation is going to have to come up in conversation eventually. They can’t write up their findings telepathically; plus, going over the footage could help them make observations on stuff they’d missed. The idea of it irks Yeosang, but he’s not about to let all of their efforts go to waste.

“Sounds good, I’ll get to going on our, uh, mysterious roommate,” Yeosang replies, firing up his laptop. It takes a while to fully boot with the myriad security protocols that initiate with startup. They take their line of work very seriously, and any leaks could compromise them severely. Especially considering that some of their preferred partners for certain operations procure information and materials through means that are… Arguably legal, one could say. When his screen finally wakes up, Yeosang opens his browser of choice and pulls up his dossier on the subject. Part of him feels tempted to take a headshot of the sleeping werewolf. It’d do good for the file. However, he can’t bring himself to do it. Picturing the other curled up in the blankets, fast asleep - it feels kind of creepy to him to snap a pic. Almost like he’s violating the other. Along with digital note-taking, they both keep hard-copies, too. Soon, the table is covered in them. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung quickly lapse into a comfortable, familiar silence. There’s no fuss or conversation, just the soft tapping of fingers on a keyboard and the sizzling of veggies hitting an oiled pan. Yeosang gets to work tracing their steps. He starts with what they know about their new friend.

The first disappearances in the area can be traced back about two years. A couple of hikers were discovered in the southern Allegheny forest. They’d been gone for days, but once the search started, it didn’t take long for the dogs to track them. Their bodies were discovered, brutalized, and dumped by a creek without ceremony. Due to the state of their remains, authorities ruled it a freak animal attack. Bears, they said. Bears had been migrating from West Virginia, apparently. It gave the cops and the press an easy out, a neat explanation that allowed people to prepare and feel safe. Just a freak accident.

Then, about a month later, a park ranger disappeared. 

The pattern continued for a while. Every month or so, someone would take a hike in the woods or go camping or, in one person’s case, their car would break down in the vicinity. Then they would never be seen again.

Yeosang pulls out up one of their scatter maps, eyeing the points of data. Every little dot marked a disappearance in the area. Red ones were confirmed - ones where the bodies were found; blue dots were never recovered. The points skew north over time. No telling why the werewolf decided to venture that way. It’s closer to the river, Yeosang figures. That’s sound motive enough, in his opinion. The tracking is all well and good, but it doesn’t really do much to help, Yeosang realizes. It follows the movements of the werewolf, but what about the person?

As Yeosang leans back to contemplate, the spicy fragrance of kimchi drifts into his nose. It tickles his nostrils and makes his mouth water. His stomach rumbles, suddenly reminding him that it  _ has  _ been over twenty-four hours since he last ate. He wonders what their werewolf liked to eat, once upon a time.

“The wolf’s gotta be from this state, right?” Yeosang posits. His fingers drum on the cheap particleboard table.

“Hm?” Woo grunts, lifting his gaze from the stove to regard the other.

“Like, they can’t have traveled that far on foot. Not like werewolves are gonna hitchhike cross-country.”

“Maybe they drove.” Woo half-jokes. “I dunno. It’s hard to tell, like, psychologically where they were at. In theory- I mean, if we’re just shooting shit, those first few transformations are kinda hazy, no?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“But who knows. They could be lucid enough to get around between transformations.”

“Yeah, but then why here of all places?”

“I dunno. Miles and miles of uninhabited woods? Healthy deer population, here, too. It’s definitely a smart move.”

“I guess… It’s pretty logical. I just- I dunno if I trust our werewolf to make a logical move. It’s pretty young. Maybe, like, our age.”

“Yeah? I guess you’re right.” Wooyoung approaches the table with two bowls of steaming fried rice. “Wait- They’re just a kid, right? Like- Maybe like us?”

“Yeah?” Yeosang takes a bowl graciously. As absorbed as he is in his work, food immediately jumps to the front of the line in terms of his priority list. “Mmm-” The noise of appreciation trickles out from his lips as he savors the spicy, homey taste of the fried rice. It’s so satisfying and warm in his belly, he could almost curl up and fall asleep again.

Wooyoung elaborates, “So, a kid gets turned into a werewolf. Two, maybe a few more years ago. What happens?”

“Mm- Is this the part where I respond with the rhetorical: I don’t know, tell me, oh wise Wooyoung, what happens?”

The other chuckles, “Damn straight I’m wise. Seriously, though, obviously this kid- this werewolf is still running around. But, also obviously, nobody knows about it.”

Yeosang nods along, too busy stuffing his face to really give meaningful response. Wooyoung, as he so often does, takes the other’s quiet as an invitation to continue.

“So you’ve got this feral kid running around god knows fucking where in the woods. What are the parents gonna do? Obviously, they’re, like, beside themselves with grief or whatever. They’re wondering where the hell their kid is. They’re gonna report that shit.”

“You think they filed a missing person report, then?” That piques Yeosang’s interest. He even puts his spoon down. How could he be so obtuse? Of course, there’ll be a missing person’s report out for the werewolf. Someone that young going MIA? Even in the case of negligent parents, surely whatever school they attended would notice.

“I think so, yeah… Okay- Okay, so- so this is good. This is really, good. We just- We can search the missing person database with a few parameters. Um, yeah- shit we can just- the years, his approximate age. Narrow it down to the state, I guess. Shit, the advanced search alone is pretty good. We might get a hit. Wh- What are we waiting for?!” Wooyoung immediately jumps into the seat next to Yeosang, leaning in close and grabbing his laptop.

“Oh my- Okay then,” Yeosang laughs. He’s content to let the other manically type while he sits aside. 

The missing persons database has a pretty comprehensive inbuilt search tool. It’s cool to not have to jump through hoops for the sake of efficiency for once. Usually Yeosang has to code shit to get what they need quickly. Instead, they can just check boxes. They have no name to go by, obviously. They punch in an approximate age range. Sex, race, approximate date range - they can even go off of physical description if they want to. They put in basic things: hair color, eye color. Their werewolf doesn’t have any apparent distinguishing features. Well, none outside the obvious (being a fucking werewolf). 

The parameters they put in are broad, so they’ve got a healthy hunk of results to pore over. They put the search engine on gallery view and scroll through all the pictures, hoping to find their werewolf. Yeosang even steps into the bedroom for a second to get a good look at their wolf’s face. Mental image refreshed, he rushes back to Woo’s side as they continue scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.

They’re on a treasure hunt, adrenaline pumping even though they’re both stationary at the kitchen table. The two scroll fast, poring over the images. They don’t even speak. Not a word. They just search, eyes boring into every headshot that pops up on the screen.

Yeosang’s eyes widen, and he jumps up, “There-! There! Shit- You scrolled past it! Scroll up, scroll up!”

Wooyoung frantically obliges Yeosang’s direction until he finally lands on the picture.

“There- there- that’s it! That’s our wolf!” Yeosang bounces up and down as he points.

There it is, in technicolor, displayed next to a card with some basic information. That’s it. That’s their werewolf.

Their werewolf looks a little different, though. The hair is shorter, for starters, and they’re wearing glasses. Even though the school portrait is kind of grainy, it’s undeniable - the jawline, the lips, the monolid eyes. 

“Song-comma-Mingi,” Yeosang mutters the name out loud. His heart does a flip in his chest. He’s not sure how to feel about it. That werewolf, the creature that practically wrested his spirit from his body, the person wrapped around him sweetly in bed, the one sleeping soundly in the bedroom right now - they have a name and that name is Song Mingi.

The puzzle comes together quickly after that.

Song Mingi is from the Philadelphia area, originally. He disappeared about two and a half years ago. Had was attending his first semester of college at some private university for dance. He visited home for fall break and was never seen again. Plugging his name into a search engine brought up long-abandoned social media accounts and old news articles.

_ PHILADELPHIA COUPLE FOUND MURDERED IN THEIR HOME _

_ FAMILY OF THREE FALLS VICTIM TO PREDATOR ATTACK _

_ THIS COUPLE’S MURDER SHOWS THE TRUE DANGER OF BEAR MIGRATION _

It was bears - or so they all allege. Though the wording is different, they pretty much all say the same thing. Two bodies were found in the Song residence after a concerned family friend stopped by after they missed an appointment. The corpses were so mangled they had to resort to dental records in order to distinguish who was who. Their son was never found, but evidence found at the scene point to signs of a large predator - most likely a bear - having dragged the boy out of the home. Some searches were conducted, but due to the state of the parents’ bodies, they didn’t seem all too committed. All the press and police involved - hell, even the relatives - seemed content to write it off as a bear attack.

“That’s our wolf…” Wooyoung mutters after closing the sixth article on the subject. “Song Mingi, huh?” He opens another tab with one of Mingi’s social media accounts. It feels almost wrong, perverse. Like e-stalking a dead person to dig up dirt. Except, that person is very much alive, curled up like a burrito in their bedroom.

> @minkypinky
> 
>   * he/him 👯♂️
>   * electronic music @ cmu 🎵
>   * twitch affiliate 🕹️
>   * music pd streams tue&thur @ 8 🎼
> 


It’s alarming to see someone’s posts just suddenly stop. Especially Mingi’s. He was… Normal. So very, shockingly, excruciatingly  _ normal _ . He spammed selfies with filters and posted teasers of his music. He made nihilistic jokes and went out with classmates. Mingi Song lived perhaps the most idyllic, dreamy university life a person could ever wish for - at least on the surface he did. Even if he did have troubles - everyone does, after all - there certainly seemed to be a lot going for the guy.

Until there wasn’t.

Something went wrong. A bite, perhaps. That’s their best working theory as to how lycanthropy is passed on, though there are other theories. The how doesn’t really matter. The end result is all the same:

A loss of life.

Sure, he’s alive, but that person - “minkypinky”, the student with a bright future ahead of him - he’s gone. Who’s to say what’s left of him.

“So, what do we do now?” Yeosang tries to shake the sad thoughts away. Now is not the time to cry for someone he doesn’t even really know. “Where do we go from here?”

“We wait for him to wake up, I think,” Wooyoung suggests. “D’you think we should… I dunno, maybe call someone?”

“No. No, I… I think that’ll compromise him too much. Even if we DM a friend or something, I feel like if we tell anybody we don’t trust, it’ll just turn into a thing. Police will get involved. Feds, maybe. How’s he supposed to explain that his parents got murdered while he got away with a few scratches? Him being gone for years is suspicious as fuck.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Shit. I just- Look at this.” Wooyoung waves to the Instagram feed they pulled up. “He- he still has family out there and friends and- and people who care about him. Look at the comments, Yeo.  _ Shit _ .”

“Don’t. We can’t think like that. Look, he- he’s human at least- at least for some… Some amount of time. Right? Oh my god, what if he’s only human when he’s asleep.” The idea just throws itself at Yeosang, and he’s too wired to ignore it.

“Okay let’s- let’s just both- both calm down, okay?” Wooyoung is typically not the one recommending they calm things down; so that’s how Yeosang knows that he really should do just that. The two take a few breaths, letting their discovery wash over them.

He thought getting railed by the werewolf was getting in over his head, but learning who he really was before all of it? That makes his heart wrench in a different way. It’s an emotional, mental weight he has to live with as opposed to a physical one. Soreness goes away. Living with the knowledge that a once brilliant boy turned into a werewolf and had to live out his days in isolation? That’s gutting.

“At least we know how to call him.” Yeosang supplies the weak condolences. “We can try talking to him and going from there. We have to remember he is a person. It’s his choice how to proceed. If he even wants to. Hell, we can drop him back off.”

“What’s that gonna do about the disappearances, though?” Wooyoung purses his lips.

“Well…” Yeosang feels his face flush. Nobody went missing last night. He almost says it, but bringing it up as the two are starting to thaw strikes him as a bad idea. “I dunno.”

“Why don’t we read up more on werewolves in general. Maybe we can find something that didn’t stick out to us before? Now that we have a sort of point of comparison to work with. We can weed out what’s reliable and what’s not.”

“Yeah, okay. Sounds like a good idea. But first, let’s actually sit down and eat our dinner like normal people.”

“Oh yeah! Food! That’s a thing, huh?”

“Yup.”

Yeosang claps the other on the back and watches fondly as he finally digs in to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Yeosang’s sleep cycle is, unsurprisingly, fucked up. 

It’s always been nebulous, but the whole napping and waking up in the evening thing didn’t help. He’s not looking forward to the day he has to realign it into something that resembles mainstream normalcy. After going back and forth with Wooyoung, discussing research, and re-checking their sources, the soreness and fatigue set back in. Yeo manages to coax himself back to sleep around four in the morning for a sort of nap. He and Woo agreed that it’s still best for him to sleep in the room with Mingi.

The werewolf is still sound asleep when Yeosang cautiously pads into the room. The sky is just barely starting to show color again when he strips and lowers himself into the bed. He lays down what he considers a respectable distance from the other. Yeosang has no idea what to expect when the other wakes up. Will he freak out? Will he make a break for it? Yeosang just hopes with all his heart that the other doesn’t disappear for good. Even if he leaves, as long as he leaves some trace, they can probably track him. Maybe. Hopefully.

They just want answers. 

And, though Yeosang hasn’t said it out loud, he has his own hope for the other, too. He wants Mingi to know that he’s not alone. At least, he doesn’t have to be.

Yeosang winces as he hits the bed, reminded of all the not-so-phantom pains still thrumming through his body. In spite of that, he falls asleep pretty quick. It’s just a void of black. No dreams. He doesn’t even get up to take a leak. Just pure, abyssal, glorious nothingness.

He feels surprisingly refreshed when he wakes up. It’s like he finally accumulated enough sleep to function as a semi-normal human again. He rolls over to check the time on his phone and, in a moment of deja vu, his body struggles against a weight.

It’s Mingi.

He’s still there.

Yeosang didn’t budge a single inch overnight, but Mingi sure as hell did. The werewolf closed the gap between them and cuddled up close. Just as he had every time before (not that there are a lot of “every time”s - it’s just a bit quirky, really, that it’s happened three times at this point). It certainly supports the theory that a person’s temperament  _ can  _ persist through the transformation (at least to some extent). Furry or not, this person is cuddly, so it seems.

The werewolf stirs slightly.

Oh, shit. He might wake up soon. Yeosang is pretty sure the other’s been out for over twenty-four hours. There’s no way he’ll be out that long. Yeo regards the sleeping werewolf for a few minutes, wondering how heavy a sleeper he is. His gaze drifts over to his phone, just barely out of reach. He should be able to just, just barely get it.

Yeosang reaches out as far as he can. His fingertips graze the edge of his phone, only to send it sliding further across the bedside table. He mutters a curse and starts wiggling toward the table.

Turns out that Mingi isn’t that heavy a sleeper. Just as Yeosang manages to scoot away, close enough to the table to grab his phone, the other moves behind him. A large hand finds the human’s waist and tugs him. His body lurches back into the other’s, and he’s back at square one. Mingi nuzzles Yeosang’s nape as if to drive home the point that he’s right where he belongs. The tickle of the werewolf’s breath on his neck sends a shudder down Yeosang’s spine.

He tries again, effort easily foiled by the werewolf’s weight. 

“I’m sorry,” Yeosang mutters - not like the other is gonna respond. “I just- Let me get- let me get my…” He stretches out again, laboriously lifting his sore body to reach out to his phone.

“M-Mhn…” The werewolf lets out a groan, and Yeosang freezes.

He looks over his shoulder and, sure enough, the other is starting to move. Mingi grimaces and makes little sounds as he comes to. Yeosang’s heart starts racing as he watches the other wake up in slow motion. Mingi props himself up on an elbow sluggishly, long hair mussed and falling over most of his face. At first, it’s clear that he doesn’t notice anything is different. He just blinks slowly, yawns and stretches ever so slightly.

It’s when he notices his arm hanging on Yeosang’s waist that Mingi starts to really wake up. The werewolf’s gaze follows the line of his long, lanky arm and it’s as if that’s when he finally notices: it’s wrapped around someone. Mingi’s eyes lock with Yeosang’s, and for an instant, Yeo feels his heart stop.

It’s like being a deer in the headlights. Except they’re both the deer.

Mingi’s nostrils flare, and Yeosang can see the signs of an incoming freakout. He doesn’t blame the other. He  _ did  _ wake up somewhere unfamiliar after a werewolf transformation. The werewolf’s eyes widen, and his head starts whipping around, long hair wild and breath starting to hasten.

“Hey,” Yeosang murmurs. He scoots away on the bed to give the other some space. “Hi, do you remember me?”

Mingi glances at Yeosang again, but it’s clear he’s too panicked to really process. The werewolf backs away frantically, hastily putting as much distance between himself and the human as possible. In his frenzy, he’s clumsy, swiping pillows off the bed and tangling his long limbs in the sheets. By impulse, Yeosang reaches out toward the other to help him, but he’s too late.

  
The werewolf launches himself off of the bed. His flailing manages to knock everything off of the bedside table, but he ultimately fails to catch himself, ass hitting the floor with a loud thud.

“Hey, hey, hey- it’s okay.” Yeosang tries to soothe the other. He hops off of the bed and approaches the other slowly. Mingi immediately cowers, backing into the table behind him. His chest visibly heaves, and Yeosang can hear his breathing pick up into something dangerously fast. “Oh- No- no, no, no- hey, it’s okay. You- Do you remember me?”

Mingi’s lip quivers, but he doesn’t make a peep. Instead, he’s all strained breath and sniffles. His entire body shakes, and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

So, safe to say he doesn’t exactly remember. Yeosang would feel affronted if not utterly distressed by the other’s state. The way Mingi’s chest is heaving, he might actually pass out. Yeosang wracks his brain for a better way to calm the other. But how? What can he do? He vaguely remembers some stuff he’d read about helping people with anxiety. Some people say it’s best to, like, talk to people. Help them get their bearings. Something like that. But will the ramblings of a stranger really help? Not that they’re entirely strangers. They did spend an entire night fucking, not to mention the hours they spent spooning at while they slept. So what if they don’t know each other. They’re not strangers.

They’re not.

An idea suddenly pops up in Yeosang’s sleep-addled mind.

When they first “met”, Mingi didn’t really seem to pay much attention to Yeosang’s appearance. He only heard a few actual, legible bits of speech from the human, so voice recognition is an obscure hope at best. Scent, however, the other has to remember. He spent the majority of the night with his muzzle buried in Yeosang’s sweaty nape.

Yeosang reaches into the hamper in the corner of the room and grabs whatever’s sitting on top. (For once, he’s actually grateful they’d procrastinated the laundry.) It happens to be the t-shirt he wore on that day (and sweated profusely in). He throws it around his neck and steps toward the other again, this time even more slowly.

“H-Hey, hey.” He speaks in a tone he hopes sounds kind and disarming. When he tries to get a smidge closer, the other shrinks back more. The werewolf’s eyes fall to Yeosang’s feet, no longer able to maintain eye contact, apparently. “It’s alright. You’re safe here. I’m a friend, remember?”

Yeo holds up the shirt he’d thrown around his neck and reiterates: “Do you remember? Mingi?”

Mingi’s fingers fidget and twitch in his lap. His pupils scuttle around nervously, never once meeting Yeosang’s. It’s like he’s playing the part of submissive wolf now, making himself smaller and averting his gaze. His lips part, only to let out a low choking noise. Fuck.

“Mingi- Mingi- Breathe. Breathe, it’s me, Yeosang.” Starting to feel anxious himself, Yeosang accidentally steps closer to the other. The wolf winces, entire body retreating as far back as it possibly can. He wraps himself up tight - hugging his knees and whimpering.

“Okay,” Yeosang nods. He tries to fend off his own nerves and gives the other space. “Right, sorry. I- You need some space. I’ll just, let me just- just back off.” The human steps back slowly, taking a seat on the floor a few feet away. 

He watches concernedly as the other shivers and cries. It’s a far, far departure from the fearsome beast that had been looming over him not even two days ago. Yeosang never imagined that that werewolf could look like this. Pitiful and cowering, a sad, lost mess. Despite the situation, there’s no fight in him, none at all. He doesn’t even make a break for it. He just sits there and cries.

A couple of minutes go by, and the little bit of space between them seems to actually help. Mingi’s whimpering subsides, and his breathing starts to sound closer to normal. There’s still a sort of staccato quality to it - a bit like he’s not getting enough air with each breath. When the werewolf lifts his head, Yeosang realizes, he’s not experiencing breathing issues. 

He’s smelling something.

Mingi’s nostrils flare, his look of panic swapped out for one of contemplation. His eyes are still wet when they meet Yeosang’s, but they’re infinitely calmer. Something beneath the other’s teary eyes glimmers, like a light turned on. He leans forward and sniffs the air again.

  
There’s recognition.

  
That’s what’s brewing behind the werewolf’s puffy, red eyes. Recognition. The smell.

“Yeah, now you know,” Yeosang isn’t sure why he’s speaking. The other certainly isn’t responding, but something about it feels right. He ventures giving the other a tiny grin - something he hopes comes across as kind and not creepy or awkward. “You remember, right? You do, don’t you.”

Mingi crawls forward on the floor, eyes fixed on Yeosang’s. They’re practically boring into the human, digging deep and penetrating straight to his heart. It makes his chest ache, for some reason. The werewolf’s gaze, his expression, the shudder of his plush lip, there’s something almost wistful about it.

“H-hi,” Yeosang says timidly. “Hi, Mingi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Mingi’s lips shudder, and Yeosang watches, rapt, waiting to hear what the werewolf has to say.

Instead of speaking, the werewolf moves. He rushes forward, yanking Yeosang close by the shirt hanging around his neck. Mingi smashes his nose against Yeosang’s skin and scents the other almost feverishly. The smell is pungent and ripe to Yeosang, but the remnants of the pheromone and their coupling remain are apparently enthralling to the other. Yeosang holds back a laugh at the ticklish sensation of the other’s breath on his neck. Relief washes over him gradually dissolving the built-up anxiety.

Mingi recognizes him. At the very least, he remembers the smell, and Yeosang prays that he can make the association quickly. Mingi smells Yeosang like he’d just taken a set of sheets out of the dryer. He basks in the other’s scent, mirth almost dripping off of him. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Yeosang says, heaving a sigh of relief. The werewolf’s apprehension melts away rapidly. He quickly transitions from a ball of nerves to aggressively cuddly in a matter of seconds. He wraps his arms around Yeosang and pulls him close. It’s endearing to the human. Happiness looks good on the werewolf (at least on the bits that Yeo can see; most of his face is buried in Yeosang’s nape).

Mingi weighs a lot, and Yeosang finds himself crumbling beneath the other’s affections. He ends up getting wrangled into the little spoon position again. Despite the scratchy texture and questionable cleanliness of the carpet beneath them, he doesn’t really mind all that much. He’s made another breakthrough. This time, it’s trust, the start of a fellowship. Recognition that can turn to rapport.

A bond.

The werewolf finally calms down a few minutes later. His affections settle into something slower and more tender - lazily nuzzling at Yeosang’s nape, gently caressing the human’s arms in a repetitive, soothing motion. A tingling warmth enters Yeosang’s bloodstream. It’s so  _ cozy _ . The other is like a living, breathing weighted blanket draped over him. A blanket with lush lips that brush against his skin and a lithe, muscled body.

Yeosang mentally smacks himself for thinking that.

He turns onto his other side so he can look at the werewolf. The person he’s face to face with is completely different than the one from minutes earlier. There’s color back in Mingi’s face - a happy, warm flush, and he even has a whisper of a smile on his lips. It’s a good look on him. A really good look on him.

“You’re safe here,” Yeo murmurs. He’s dangerously close to falling asleep again. Mingi is also on the cusp of dozing, eyes lolling closed. It’d be way too easy for the both of them to pass the fuck out, right there on the floor. Yeosang decides to be the grown-up in the situation instead. “Mnn-nope. Nope.” The human wrests himself from the other’s affectionate grasp and uses hoists his body off of the ground. He’s so bleary that he has to use the bed beside him for assistance.

“Come on,” Yeosang says, reaching a hand out toward the other. The werewolf lets out a soft, betrayed sounding grunt, and he pouts - actually pouts - at Yeosang. 

“No. You’re getting up. You haven’t eaten in over a day,” He insists. There’s some leftover fried rice in the fridge. He figures he can crack an egg over it and toss it on the stove. He’s no Wooyoung - actually, he’s very much the opposite of Woo in that regard, he’s a disaster in the kitchen - nonetheless, he feels like he can manage rice and eggs. 

Funny thing is, Wooyoung used to be a disaster, too. After months of living together and being pretty much transient, they both got sick of shitty convenience store food. Neither of them could even scramble an egg without a disaster. Wooyoung always liked to watch cooking videos - Tasty, Bon Appetite, the guy who only shows his hands that Yeosang can’t remember, and, after setting off a fire alarm and having to evacuate a motel room in subzero weather, Wooyoung felt inspired. He finally pursued his interest and cooking, and though he’s far from perfect, Yeosang is grateful for it. Woo saved their stomachs  _ and  _ their wallets.

Mingi comprehends immediately. Sure, he’s a bit slothful - perhaps hungover from over twenty-four hours of sleep. Also that whole bodily transformation thing. In spite of that, he follows the instruction well, taking Yeosang’s hand and going about the laborious task of getting up. Yeosang flashes the other a genial smile, hoping to make him feel as secure as possible. The man woke up in a strange bed, wrapped around a strange person, and just barely fended off a panic attack. Even though he still hasn’t said anything, he must be reeling.

When he finally gets onto his two feet, the werewolf stumbles slightly. Yeosang is afraid he’ll have to catch the other, but thankfully Mingi manages to right himself. He doesn’t really resemble a wolf as a human - well, save for the long hair and stubble on his face. Sure, there are a few other features one can point out like the muscles, the long nails. However, the way he is now, toddling around like a newborn giraffe, it amazes Yeosang that the other can turn into something so feral and fierce.

Just how severely does the werewolf transformation warp the mind?

After finding his footing, the werewolf begins to check out the space. Good. That mean’s he’s fairly cognizant. He isn’t panicking, but he’s assessing things, getting a grasp of his surroundings.

“Oh, um, you can look around.” Yeosang gestures to the bedroom. His ears flush pink when he realizes they’re still holding hands. He lets go and flashes the other an awkward smile as he looks around.

There isn’t much to it, really. There’s the queen size in the middle flanked by old side tables. The bed sits opposite the door out, and beside that sits a tall chest drawer. There’s a closet on the other side of the drawer and beyond that is the door into the one full bath in the place. It’s really not enough, but it’s enough to capture the werewolf’s undivided attention for the moment. Yeosang is alright taking that concession.

Mingi runs his fingers along the sheets and just plays with them for a moment. His fingers flex atop the cotton, just idly bunching it up for a bit. He runs his hand along the dark walnut of the old bedrame and tangles his toes with the plush pile of the carpet. He even touches the wall - just lays his palm flat against the dated, splattery texture. There’s something pensive about his expression. At first, Yeosang what would ever prompt someone to be so reflective in the dull little bedroom. However, he quickly realizes that the other had been living in isolation for somewhere around two years. 

When was the last time Mingi was in a normal house? A bed, a room with four walls, furniture, light fixtures, air conditioning, wifi, all of it. Yeosang’s inference could be wrong, but the other certainly doesn’t give off signs of someone who’s integrated with society since being turned. This is probably a lot for him to process - on many levels. Yeo almost wants to reach out, to reassure the other, encourage him, even.

Mingi spies the door to the bathroom, and Yeosang wonders if the other has any recollection whatsoever of his bath. Yeosang follows after the other as he goes into the bathroom, but the door suddenly shuts with a jarring slam. Yeo’s eyes widen with confused alarm as he wonders if he’s going to have to talk the other out of another bout of anxiety. His fears are quickly quelled by the telltale sound of piss hitting the basin.

“Oh-” Yeosang grunts dumbly to himself. It’s probably been a while since Mingi did that, too. It comes as a relief to the human that the other isn’t trying to mark him with it. That’s nice. 

Good to know he’s still house-trained.

As melodic as the sound of someone taking a really long piss is, Yeosang opts to leave the other to it.

Wooyoung is already awake when Yeosang emerges from the bedroom. He glances up from his phone and regards his roommate with raised brows. The couch is already back to normal which means Woo’s probably been up for at least half an hour. 

“He’s up,” Yeosang cuts to the chase.

Wooyoung immediately startles, jumping out of his seat (and nearly throwing his phone in the process), “Oh, fuck. Is he- is he okay? How- how is he? What is he doing? Is he in there right now?” He watches the bedroom door like the other’s going to go full wolf and burst through at any second.

“He’s taking a piss.”

“Oh. In the toilet?”

“No, on the bed.”

“Oh, fuck-”

“I’m kidding. Yes, in the toilet. He’s a werewolf, not an actual wolf.”

“Well- I don’t know. I mean, shit. Who knows how far gone he is with the whole...” Wooyoung makes a claw gesture with his hands. “I mean, how is he? Is he… Is he okay? Did he seem to suffer amnesia? Did he tell you anything?”

Yeosang grimaces, “First of all, it’s too early-”

“Sang it’s like three-”

“ _ Too early _ for that line of questioning. Second of all, he- he’s okay. I think. Like, at first he totally freaked out, but, um, I calmed him down. I think he… He remembered my scent.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. He, like, smelled.” Yeosang decides to omit the part about the other manhandling him. Wooyoung would probably react more worriedly than amusedly, and Yeosang isn’t awake enough to talk another person down from a freakout.

“Oh. Wow. So… So we can infer that, even shifted, werewolves retain an enhanced sense of smell. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Yeo shrugs.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. He’s- he’s actually- he’s okay? And everything?”

“I guess. He seemed okay. You know, all things considering. Let’s get some food in him and we can ask him about it later. Whatever we choose to do, I don’t wanna open up with an interrogation. Who knows, he might have something to say.”

“Right. Okay, I just, um- I can start on breakfast.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Yeosang starts heading to the kitchen.

“I can at least put coffee on.” Wooyoung posits. He follows after the other, and they start milling about in comfortable silence. The kitchen fills with the soft burbling of the coffee maker and the sizzle of the pan. Yeosang zones out as he watches steam come up from the fried rice in the skillet.

He and Wooyoung are both in the same boat. They’re both trying to play it cool while dying on the inside. Mingi is right there. Their muse, their obsession,  _ their werewolf _ . He is living and breathing and real and alive and taking a leak in their fucking bathroom. Yeosang would love nothing more than to shake the other down and ask him his life story. But he’s not some coldhearted monster. Mingi isn’t an animal or sideshow attraction. He doesn’t owe them anything. Especially not a recountence of his traumas or the intimate workings of his body. (Though, of course, Yeosang did experience some of those workings firsthand.)

“Smells good,” Woo comments, sidling up to Yeosang and throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Yeah, well, you made it.” Yeo lifts his head to make some other snide comment, but the other’s close. Very close. So close their noses could bump. It’s not like shit like this never happens. Actually, it’s pretty regular. But, despite years of this, sometimes…

Sometimes Yeosang forgets himself.

“You’re right. You’re goddamn right, I did,” Wooyoung smirks, and he leans in so close that Yeosang can feel the other’s breath bounce off of his face. “Gordon Ramsay is shaking in his- his…” His gaze drifts from Yeosang toward their bedroom door. Yeo follows the other’s eyes, and his stomach flips. 

“Oh, fuck,” Wooyoung murmurs. 

“Hi, Mingi,” Yeosang greets the other with a smile he hopes appears easy and not nervous.

The werewolf looms in the door, tall body practically taking up the door frame. For the first time, he’s standing up straight, proper, and his height takes both of them by surprise. He’s slender but broad, wide shoulders practically filling the doorway. Despite his relatively disheveled state, Mingi is undeniably imposing. He looks like the type of guy a person would eye warily as they pass him on the street. Sure, the unkempt parts of his appearance probably contribute to that, but his body is shockingly similar to how it is when he’s shifted.

Mingi’s gaze sweeps across the open living area, taking it all in. His lips twitch slightly when his eyes fall on Yeosang. Maybe it’s the start of a smile, maybe he wants to say something. Whatever it is, the gesture immediately freezes over. The werewolf notices Wooyoung draped over the human, and his expression immediately darkens.

“H-hi?” Wooyoung ventures greeting the other. He tenses slightly under the other’s discernment. Yeosang doesn’t blame him. He would, too. Hell, he still kind of is, even though it’s established that the other has some kind of affinity for him. (More likely than not due to their full moon fuckfest.)

It doesn’t take Mingi long to cross the living room. His abrupt rush alarms both of the humans, making them flinch. In the blink of an eye, Mingi is bearing over both of them, dark eyes boring into Wooyoung, brows furrowed. He looks angry.

“Uh, Mingi, what’s the matter?” Yeosang asks, trying to keep his tone light. Worry stews in his gut. Why is he so mad all of a sudden?

Mingi ignores Yeosang completely and continues staring Wooyoung down. Woo returns the other’s leer with his own wide-eyed, confused look. The werewolf takes a step forward, prompting Wooyoung to take a step back. He unravels himself from the other and backs away slowly, utterly stupefied. With the newly granted space, Mingi actually inserts himself between Yeosang and Wooyoung. In utter contrast to the shaky, crying mess he was earlier, Mingi bears over Wooyoung, the picture of tall, broad, lean-muscled intimidation.

“M...Mingi?” Wooyoung tries to sound friendly. “Glad to see you awake.”

The werewolf doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just grabs Yeosang around the waist and yanks him close in a manner that’s almost possessive. Unless…

Unless he  _ is  _ being possessive.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Yeosang softly asserts. He tries to steal away the other’s attention, but he doesn’t really succeed. The werewolf is completely distracted, more focused on the person - or perhaps, in his mind, the “wolf” - in front of him.

“Wha…?” Wooyoung’s eyes dart stressedly from Mingi to Yeosang, silently asking: What the hell did I do? The answer is: nothing out of the ordinary for two humans who’d been friends for half a decade. From a wolf’s perspective, things might look different. Mingi essentially staked his claim on Yeosang in their coupling. Wooyoung, however, is a stranger; a stranger who could be perceived as scenting the alpha’s mate. Or something like that.

Mingi’s posturing could very well be a holdover from the wolfish instincts, a part of the transformation that bleeds into his human consciousness.

“Mingi,” Yeosang speaks to the other insistently. He ventures placing a hand on the werewolf’s arm, hoping it’s not taken as an affront. “Mingi it’s fine- it’s fine, he’s a friend.”

“Wha- what’s going on?” Wooyoung mumbles to Yeosang. 

“Mingi doesn’t- he doesn’t know you and he’s just being protective, right?” Yeosang steps around the werewolf so he’s between the other two. “ _ Right _ ?”

The werewolf looks at Yeosang bemusedly.

“Wooyoung is a good friend, you can trust him.” The human continues. “I trust him. So, just lay off, okay?”

Mingi appears more vexed than anything else.

“Okay?” Yeosang repeats himself, making sure to look the other straight in the eye (even though he is slightly terrified when pissed. “You wanna cuddle with me, you gotta accept him, too. We’re a package deal.”

Wooyoung chuckles, “Awww, Sangie~”

Yeosang glares at the other before regarding the werewolf again. Mingi definitely seems a bit prickly about it, but he’s not staring daggers at Wooyoung anymore. That counts as a win in Yeosang’s book. Or, at least it  _ did  _ for about two seconds until he realized the mental celebration was premature. One fire was put out, and another started immediately.

Well, not so much a full-on fire. More like burning.

Their breakfast is burning.

The unmistakable, sulfuric smell of overcooked eggs starts to fill the room like a noxious fog.

“Shit-!” Yeosang lunges toward the burner in hopes of salvaging their meal. Wooyoung rushes to help, no longer fazed by the intimidating werewolf (or, perhaps more affected by the idea that their breakfast might be ruined).

  
After some awkward stumbling and hasty recovery, their breakfast (and their “morning”) is saved. Yeosang manages to talk Mingi down some more, and the werewolf finally takes a seat at the table, gaze raking across every nook, cranny, and crevice it can perceive. It’s probably a lot to take in, but Yeo thinks he’s doing fairly well so far. Save for their almost-altercation. And the little (understandable) freakout in the morning. He’s doing great.

“Sorry,” Yeosang whispers to Wooyoung while he’s helping clean up. He hopes Mingi doesn’t have enhanced hearing, too. That would be problematic. Doesn’t help that their place is shy of eight-hundred square feet, either.

Wooyoung heaves a sigh. Yeosang can tell the other is more shaken up than he lets on. It’s a strange situation to say the least. Plus, Wooyoung is used to being liked. He has this wonderful, addictive, magnetic personality that enables him to befriend anyone. Even in the most intolerant, shithole places they’ve been to, people fall for him. He’s like sunshine in human skin, the warm, gentle kind that people want nothing more than to bask in. For someone to regard him with scorn is probably more upsetting than he wants to let on.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Wooyoung mutters back, hands busy plating portions. “It’s- why- what did I do?”

“You’re just a stranger. I’m not. This entire thing is spooky when you think about it. Dude woke up in some random fucking house. He knows me but doesn’t know you.”

“I- I guess. Still, I would think it’s a safe inference that I’m, like, cool.”

“Give him a day and he’ll be, like, obsessed with you.”

“Please-”

“It’s what always happens.”

“Really? ‘Cause I’ve known you for six years. Are you obsessed with me?” Wooyoung smirks. The bastard.

Yeosang’s cheeks swelter with the rush of heat to his face, “I’m immune.”

“Hm. Whatever you say.”

“Look, just- just don’t go touching him, okay? I know that’s who you are, but, he isn’t- he’s been alone for a while.”

“I won’t! I- I wasn’t gonna.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What? Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because I’ve known you for six years.”

“I- Fair. Fair.” Wooyoung chuckles. “Here.” He hands the other two bowls full of the rice they managed to salvage. The entire bottom layer is burnt onto the pan, but thankfully the top managed to survive while only smelling minorly burnt.

Yeosang joins Mingi at the dining table which manages to rouse the werewolf’s attention. He raises his brows curiously at the food presented before him and sniffs at it. It wouldn’t surprise Yeosang if the burned smell put him off of the dish. Surely he remembers prepared food smelling a lot better than what’s sitting in front of him now. Thankfully, the other doesn’t appear offended at the plate. Instead, he looks to Yeosang, as if asking for permission to indulge.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Yeosang insists warmly. “It’s for you. Eat up! You must be starving after everything. Especially considering that you didn’t hunt.”  _ Since you were busy fucking the everliving shit out of me _ \- the thought crosses Yeosang’s mind.

Mingi’s gaze returns to the food in front of him, and he licks his lips. His hand flinches, reaching for the bowl at first, fingers grazing the cheap ceramic. He stops himself, though, hand flinching away. Shakily, he reaches for the spoon nearby. Yeosang watches, utterly fascinated as the werewolf handles the utensil. He forgets about his food for a few minutes, caught up in observing the way Mingi’s long fingers wrap awkwardly around the utensil.

When’s the last time he’s used one of those?

Mingi’s hand shakes as he adjusts his grip - grasping it in his fist, then holding it between fingers like a pencil before finally settling into something resembling normality. The spoon wavers with the shudder of his hand as he lifts it to his lips.

One might think Mingi just ate the most beautiful food he’d tasted in his  _ life  _ if they looked at his face. His features scrunch into an almost  _ pained  _ looking expression of ecstasy. He takes a sharp breath and pulls the spoon out slowly, as if savoring even the miniscule bits of flavor clung to the metal. He chews surprisingly slowly, drawing the single bite out to last seconds. That single spoonful feels like eons to Yeosang, not that he minds it. He’s glad to see that the other is satisfied with the food. He’s glad to see the other eating.

“Ah- Wait, let me get you a cup of water,” Yeosang says. He hops out of his seat and gets the other a glass quickly. No doubt he’s thirsty as hell, too. Sure, he’s built in a way, but even under his loose, borrowed clothes, it’s apparent the other is little more than bone and muscle. He could use any bit of nourishment he can get, and Yeosang is happy to provide it.

  
Even though it took Yeosang maybe thirty seconds to grab a drink, that was long enough for Mingi’s mood to change completely. He went from enjoying his meal to staring down at the bowl, frown on his lips and eyes glimmering with tears. Fuck. The sight makes Yeosang’s heart drop to his stomach. 

“Wh-What’s the matter? Does it taste bad?” Yeosang asks.

Mingi sniffs loudly and shakes his head.

“Oh. Um. Did you burn your tongue?”

The werewolf shakes his head again.

“I… What is it, Mingi? You- you know if you talk to me…”

Mingi just shakes his head again, and a tear falls down his cheek. He scoops up another spoonful of rice and shovels it into his mouth. Then another. And another. Yeosang watches, almost as confused as he is enthralled. Despite his tears, he actually appears to be enjoying the meal.

“Mingi, what is it?” Yeosang tries again.

The other is pretty adamant about staying silent. Or maybe his speech abilities got fucked up by his transformation. At first, Yeosang thought it was exhaustion or timidity, but now he isn’t sure. All he can do is sit back and observe while the other downs the burnt rice with almost worrying speed.

“Don’t wanna talk about it, Mingi? Mingi… Mingi…” Yeo mutters the name to himself a couple of his times.

Mingi Song.

Song Mingi.

Yeosang’s pretty sure he remembers his ethnicity being mentioned on the missing persons report. He’s Korean, like them. Hell of a coincidence. Figures, all three Koreans in northern Pennsylvania manage to link up. Nothing can stop them, not even one of them being a literal cryptid.

Jokes aside, it’s safe to assume that at least once in his life, maybe, just maybe, Mingi has eaten kimchi fried rice before. Maybe…

Maybe it reminds him of home.

It’s definitely a comforting dish. There’s nothing special about it, but that’s what is so special about it. It’s common and homey, comfort on a plate. Everyone’s got their own version of it. Hell, maybe it’s just having a homecooked meal at all - even one that’s burnt and butchered like theirs. Theoretically, he’s been living off of raw meat for two years (somehow). Eating something hot and fresh and prepared for him could definitely elicit some tears. Hell, even Yeosang gets misty-eyed sometimes when Wooyoung’s mom sends stuff their way.

“I’m glad you like it,” Yeosang says. He can already hear Mingi’s spoon scrape the bottom of the bowl. Without a word, the human slides his bowl over to the other.

Mingi pauses for the first time since picking his spoon up. He gives Yeosang a confused look as if to ask “what’s this?”.

“For you. Take it.”

The werewolf’s eyes dart between the bowl and Yeosang. After a few more encouraging nods, he finally buys that Yeosang is cool with giving over his food. Because he is, genuinely. He can deal with cooking himself something else (or, the more likely scenario, settling for a protein shake). The little twinkle in Mingi’s eyes is well worth a bowl of rice.

Mingi digs in. Even though he’s still sniffling and teary, it’s clear the other is happier. After swallowing another mouthful of rice, Mingi pauses again. Yeosang wonders if the other is about to cry fresh tears, but instead, the werewolf leans over. Without prelude, Mingi presses a chaste kiss on Yeosang’s cheek. The werewolf is so damn warm, the heat coming off of him almost searing.

Yeosang freezes, shocked by the saccharine affection. It’s just rice, after all. What’s with the kiss? Maybe Mingi is the touchy type, like Wooyoung. Fuck.  _ Wooyoung _ . He probably saw that, Yeo realizes. The other guy is standing right there in the kitchen. It’s not like there are walls. Yeosang’s entire face burns, and his stomach toils with a weird combination of feelings he’s too tired and hungry to sort out.

  
Despite himself, Yeo glances over his shoulder toward the other. He doesn’t know why he does this, but he just does. Unsurprisingly, the other is, in fact, paying attention to the only two other people in the damn place. Wooyoung simply raises his eyebrows, almost inquisitive. For a second - really, not even that long, maybe a fraction of a second - the expression on his face is strange. Unreadable. It’s probably a trick of the light, though, because after that brief flash of weirdness, an amused smile blossoms on his face. That’s more like it; that’s the fun-loving, sweet Wooyoung that Yeosang knows.

“You gonna eat, too?” Yeosang says. He banks on aggressively ignoring the little smooch to keep his sanity.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Wooyoung teases with a smirk.

“ _ Ha-ha _ . Just come and sit. How else are you gonna get to know our new friend?”

“What about you? What are you eating?”

“I dunno,” Yeosang shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”

“I can make you something. Just whip up a few eggs.”

“Don’t do that. Honestly, I’m not super hungry, anyway. It’s fine.”

Wooyoung frowns, “Suit yourself.” His eyes shift back to Mingi, and Yeosang’s gaze follows.

He slowed down, thank god. It wouldn’t do for him to gorge himself and get sick. Now he’s back to savoring the meal. Sitting there at the table, one hand twiddling with his spoon while he rests his head in the other. Even though all he’s done so far is eat some rice, his head is already nodding with drowsiness. Something about him almost comes across as innocent. Yeosang can’t help but remember the image of the starry-eyed student posing for selfies on Instagram.

“Hey, Mingi!” Yeosang calls the other. The werewolf rouses from his haze, blinking at the human bemusedly. “Careful. You’re getting hair in your rice.”

The werewolf glances down and nods, leaning away from the food. Lucidity. Comprehension. Understanding. No verbal response, but there is a response. He’s a curious case, Mingi. Yeosang has so many questions, but he starts to wonder if he’ll ever get answers. 

The biggest question is: what happens next?

* * *

Mingi passed out shortly after his meal. Like. Minutes after. He practically faceplanted into his last few granules of rice. Yeosang managed to rescue him before he dove into his bowl, gently guiding him back to bed. 

He’s been out ever since.

After making sure that he was asleep, Yeosang and Woo set up on the kitchen table again. It feels different now that they know Mingi (or at least he does). Before it was like unearthing the life of a stranger, putting together the pieces of a mystery. Now, it feels a little more perverse, like they’re opening up his underwear drawer or something. 

“Nobody’s looking for him,” Wooyoung mumbles, frowning at his laptop.

“Wha-?” Yeosang murmurs, still half-skimming the old werewolf article he’d pulled up. They still had a lot of old sources to pore through and compare.

“Our werewolf- Mingi. Nobody’s looking for him.”

“Oh. I- I guess not.”

“I mean, it’s been two years. You always have a few who hold out hope in these missing persons cases, but…” Yeo shrugs. “It seems like the police were pretty adamant about the whole ‘mangled by a bear’ thing. It sounded pretty cut-and-dried in the papers.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s the easy way out.”

“No shit. Law enforcement and giving a fuck aren’t exactly things that go hand in hand.”

“Right. I know, I just- I mean- where do you think Mingi is staying? How has he survived up to this point?”

“I don’t know. I could-”

“He doesn’t talk.”

“What?”

“He doesn’t talk, Yeosang. I don’t think just asking him is gonna work.”

“You don’t  _ know  _ that. Even if he is nonverbal, we can just use speech aids. He went to college, he can at least read and write. Though maybe all that shit is buried under… Wolf stuff.”

“I- That’s not my point.” Wooyoung’s serious expression breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so funny.”

“What?” Yeosang flushes. The other finds ways to tease him over the most mundane shit. It’s simultaneously irritating and endearing.

“It’s just that- the way you, like, think and overthink stuff.”

“Well, I have to compensate. Since you don’t think at all.”

“Wow. Alright. Walked right into that one, huh?”

“Yup. What- what was your point, anyway? What were we talking about?”

“I was just gonna say that, I… Maybe Mingi can… If- if he wants to, maybe he can stay with us for a while.” Wooyoung presses his lips together. “If that’s cool with you. If not that-”

“Of course he can. If he wants to… Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For suggesting it. That’s really sweet of you.”

“Gross, don’t get all soft on me.” Wooyoung’s giddy expression completely contradicts his words.

“Would you prefer that I get hard on you?” The idiotic remark leaves Yeosang’s lips before he can stop it. He hopes the other doesn’t think much of it.

“I- You- B-bad Yeosang!” Wooyoung titters, throwing a balled up napkin at the other. “Christ. The fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Is that a no?”

“Keep reading! Pervert.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“Yeah, because I am not dignifying that with an answer.” Wooyoung laughs.

“Whatever. I’m gonna continue reading up on our possibly-new-temp-roommate. Or, well, more general shit, anyway. Funnily enough, it’s, like, pre-seventies texts that seem way more accurate. You’d think modern technology would mean better information.”

“Eh. Shit got sensational in the mid-century. Just a lot more bullshit to wade through. We… We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. I- We should tell him, shouldn’t we?”

“Tell him what?” Wooyoung quirks an eyebrow inquisitively.

“That we’re studying him. Now that I’ve seen him all awake and conscious and shit, this feels kind of wrong. Even letting him stay with us, like- he’s a person.”

“He is.” Woo nods in agreement with the matter-of-fact statement.

“I just- He’s not an idiot, you know. If we treat him like some experiment or subject of study, he’s gonna know. And I’ll wager a guess that he won’t like it. I mean, it’s not fair to him, anyway. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like some fucking zoo animal.” Yeosang heaves a sigh and wrings a hand through his hair. 

This is a new stressor he didn’t anticipate. He honestly thought he’d get some kind of a werewolf one-night-stand - a hump and dump situation in which they got out with some DNA samples and footage. Instead, they took the entire fucking werewolf home. He is utterly, completely, overwhelmingly fascinated and curious. There’s a part of him that would love nothing more than to poke and prod, test for responses to stimuli, and observe the other from afar. But that’s weird, and now that he has a bit of a better sense of Mingi, he realizes how wrong it is. He isn’t some endangered animal or sideshow attraction. He isn’t even just “Werewolf A” anymore. 

He’s Mingi.

“I mean, he  _ is  _ kind of the subject of our study…” Wooyoung responds hesitantly. “But I get what you’re saying. I think- well, let’s let him adjust first. I bet he’s wondering how we found him, too, you know? If he somehow poses the question, we can be honest with him. Otherwise, I don’t want him to go batshit. But, in time - not a lot. I mean, like, maybe days - let’s tell him. We treat him like the person that he is. Maybe then we can… Cooperate?”

“That’d be nice. But if he says no- well, then we say fuck it, I guess. As is, we have some pretty good insight.”

“Yeah.” Woo frowns. “I guess.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Yeosang says with finality. There’s only so much they can figure out without Mingi in the picture. 

Yeosang agrees it’s best to let him adjust for a few days. They can see how he handles everything, see if it’s even realistic or feasible to cohabitate with him at all. Sure, he’s sleepy now, but what if he turns out to be a nightmare? What if he doesn’t stick around at all? It’s not like they can monitor him all hours of the day (nor do they want to).

They still have jobs to deal with, after all. In spite of the insistence of their parents, the two of them do work  _ real  _ jobs. (Yeosang has had to defend Wooyoung’s temp gigs more times than he’d like.) They’ve got jobs, notes to write up, reading to do, a few of their crytozoologist peers to get back to, and now, possibly a new roommate.

It’s fine, though. It’ll be fine. Yeosang is optimistic about it, genuinely so. He and Wooyoung have managed so far with little more than their will and their wit. This will be the same, whatever comes of it. Even if they get into tiffs every now and then, the two always make it through challenges together. And, so far, Mingi is hardly a challenge at all.

Hopefully, he stays that way.

**Author's Note:**

> // twit: @0KKULTiC , cc: curiouscat.me/0KKULTiC
> 
> big s/o to sara for looking it over for me ;w; ty all for reading, hope you enjoy! don't hold out for regular updates or anything, this is kind of a chill, for fun feral thing. i do have ideas for the direction of this tho. pls lmk if there's any tags / other things i gotta cover up there. a bit rough writing wise but that's ok we still love it like the other children uwu
> 
> title comes from "hungry like the wolf" by duran duran cause i'm not creative! lol


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